Removing the Taint
by KSdees
Summary: Chuuya is sent to Europe on a secret mission to improve Port Mafia's destructive powers. In the arguably most advanced particle physics laboratories in the world, he is charged with the task he had never imagined possible - learning to control Corruption. *Finished*
1. Chapter 1

Chuuya had always wanted to know his own origins. He craves to remember, what he had been before, how he was created- What he really is. And that curiosity always, without fail, condemn him.

A prime example would be that time when he was 15, when he had let his nose follow the scent of Arahabaki and ended up meeting that annoying bandage-wasting suicide maniac in Cone Street.

Now he found himself, in all places in the world, underground in a cold long dark tunnel that would have been perfect for a hideout or suicide bombing or whatever, but is being funded and used as a kind of super badass gun to fire tiny particles at each other and watch the wreckage.

It's also where that last fragment of 'science' on the workings of gravity had been found - or so he figured.

It was as good a lead as any, when any traces of that event of his birth are so slim. Investigating Corruption and the nature of it sounded good to Chuuya, and he was never the one to slack in this kind of work.

He read up on gravity, then how it works in the classical sense, then he sniffed out the Standard Model, which kinds of predicts the existence of gravitons but has no place for it in the elementary particles or some such overcomplicated stuff Chuuya didn't really understand. Not to mention those String theories or supersymmetry or whatever.

To be honest, he doesn't really care.

He didn't want the history of who discovered what, or how does the entire universe fits together, he only needs the basic stuff. Property of gravitons, where they exist, their mass, speed, interactions, behaviors. Rules.

He just needed control.

Ok, maybe grabbing a scientist's collar and shoving him against a wall to stop his ramblings isn't the best demonstration of control, so Chuuya let go of the frightened man, suppress his urge to kick something (like that huge tunnel over there, which would probably cost more than the entire Port Mafia's illegal earnings to fix) and shove his hands into his pants pockets.

"So. In two sentences, tell me what a graviton is."

"As I said! It depends on what theory you are talking about! Some don't predict its existence-"

"Then those are crap."

"Possibly. But others do predict them, but in different ways!"

"Well tell me one!"

"Come on, Chuuya, be nice to the guy." A voice said behind him, and veins popped in Chuuya's head.

"You're the reason I'm pissed right now! Why the hell are you even here in the first place, Dazai!?"

"Why research, of course! Suicide in the vacuum with temperature less than outer space! With the weapon being a near light speed beam of protons! Isn't that perfect? If only I have a beautiful lady willing to commit a double suicide!"

"Well find them elsewhere! Get the hell out of here!" For good measure Chuuya kicked at Dazai, fast and hard. He dodged, as expected, and Chuuya once more turned to interrogate the poor scientist.

"Sooo cruel, Chuuya~~" Dazai continued to whine in the background.

Well, actually Dazai has a reason to be here. The nature to Chuuya's incredible powers could be a radical game-changer. He knows particle physics, but most textbook stuff are outdated in the rapidly growing field, and the information online are mostly full of oversimplified or exaggerated articles. Research papers are well and good, but those also take time to get published.

In short, he needed current research. And with his short time here at CERN with Chuuya- as a privileged guest using Port Mafia's connections- has already earned him a swipe of a bunch of data.

Now, his only remaining responsibility is to annoy Chuuya as much as possible.

Which he is enjoying bottomlessly.


	2. Chapter 2

Chuuya looked at the large empty chamber that was to be his working space for the month to come. The ceiling reached so far over head that it takes him more than several seconds in the equivalent of earth's gravity to reach. And so are the walls to either side and in front.

Large bold letters told him which wall was which - considerate of them, it seems they are no stranger to training in zero gravity (or gravity that can change according to one's own will)

"These walls doesn't look like a good buffer for black holes." He remarked dryly, adjusting his hat and drilling holes in the overconfident staff with his eyes.

At least Dazai had run off somewhere already.

"Don't worry. We had those records of your last fight with Lovecraft from your boss. The range of your black holes are microscopic compared to the scales we are used to working with, truly gravity is such a weak, weak force."

Chuuya worked to not feel offended. Instead he stated the obvious.

"Your pathetic weak microscopic black hole could kill you in half a second. But let's not waste time and use my kick instead, I can send you crashing into the other wall before you could calculate your final velocity."

The scientist seems at last reminded of his station and took a step back.

"Well, you were running your mouth off about the walls."

"A- ah, yes, sir, the wall is built to be thicker than your range, and it is suspended in another larger room still filled with air, then suspended in near vacuum. If you were to blast a hole in one of the wall it would likely not penetrate. If it somehow did, like you happen to blast the same place twice, you will simply be in a larger room. If you broke the outer... well, the only one in danger would be you, who would be in a vacuum, and would likely die before you can do further damage, sir."

"Well, then I want that damned bandage-wasting bastard near and ready while I'm practicing then. Let's hope you guys didn't underestimate Corruption."

Chuuya adjusted his hat again, disconcerted and annoyed to be so dependent on the aforementioned bastard.

"Sir, would you like to look at your lodgings next?"

"Yeah, lead the way."

The next few hours, Chuuya spent his time following large men, one after another, around the compounds. He already felt small with the able-bodied guards in Japan, but these western people are another matter entirely. He might as well be a dwarf.

And he has to stay here for one damn month.

Mori's orders come to him again, vivid in his memory.

_The coming battles would continue to worsen as more enemy organizations than ever are making their way into Yokohama. Your powerful abilities would be useful, but not so much anymore in its current form, since the enemies knows about it. That's why, Chuuya-kun, you will be sent to Europe under the pretense of personally presiding over the weapons transport, but you will be heading to a research facility. You will willingly call upon Corruption, to be analyzed by my trusted experts, and you will learn to control them... I trust you would make haste. This, is the most effective solution._

He had been speechless, then. Shocked. But years of loyalty knows what to do. He took off his hat and knelt. The next week, he was packed off into a plane, heading for Switzerland, to call for a taint he would never dream of calling again, over and over.

To prepare himself for what might mean his own suicide- self destruction, over and over. For one month.

Chuuya quietly swore to himself that he would finish his job before then. He numbed the fear he don't want to admit with the first-class wine, and set out to find his former partner.

He would just have to trust Dazai. Again and again, every time. Hoping he wouldn't mess with him too far. Hoping that he wouldn't screw up.

Somehow, in one month, he would control Corruption, and then, the enemies of Port Mafia would cower in absolute _fear_.


	3. Chapter 3

Nakahara Chuuya stopped amidst the streets of Geneva, his taller partner continuing on without a care in the world, casually calling back to him.

The call fell on deaf ears as Chuuya stood, tensing, his eyes wide with fear.

The whispers of red tendrils crept under his collar and his sleeves. Ocean blue pupils tinted with the barest hint of red.

Chuuya clenched his teeth, his nails digging into his palm as he tried to suppress the tainted beast from emerging. He wanted to cry out, but his throat was constricted so tightly he couldn't make a sound. The ground beneath him trembled, it was all he could do to keep it intact, to keep the gravity from being too much for the paved street to bear.

Chuuya panicked. He didn't call for Corruption- had not utter or even thought of the words, yet it is attacking him, threatening to take over. Like his time in the research facility... but this is in the middle of a population center! His eyes darted around, and everywhere there were people. Alarmed, or completely oblivious, or stopping curiously to take a photo or a video.

He wanted to scream at them to run, what came out was a mad laugh. A laugh he is all too familiar with.

He can't do this, not this time, not yet. Not _here_.

A black hole formed in his hands- the enigmatic singularity where all rule and laws break down. A point where no one, even light, could escape. His left arm grabbed the right one, steadying it. He could _not_ hurl this around here.

Warm liquid trickled down his eyes, like tears. Chuuya humphed inside his own head. He could really have cried right about now. His lips was also bleeding, and his ears. He was being torn apart by keeping the power in as much as for tapping into it in the first place.

Chuuya hunched over, biting his lips a bit more violently, the grip on his arms vise-like, trying to cling to the pain to keep his entire vision from going red, then black. Then he would wake in the ruins of a city that gave him hospitality in a foreign land.

As if mocking his conscience, his right arm swung wide, blood arcing from the place where his own nails had dig so hard they left trails. Buildings disappeared into nothing. Another black hole formed before him.

He laughed at the destruction.

The people are scattering now, wisely fearing for their lives over missing out on their selfies. And Chuuya caught just a brief glimpse of the familiar figure.

Knowing it was his last chance, he threw himself that direction. Gravity poured over him, erratic and uncontrolled, consuming, pressing around him, absorbing him.

Then it was all gone, and they hit the pavement together, skidding to a painful stop.

Dazai groaned under him and as usual, resumed his taunt, "Aww, I never knew you would miss me this much, Chuuya! I was gone for just a minute! You should have told me you were the touchy-feely type!"

The chirp died on the now silent city, as Dazai felt the tremble of Chuuya's body. His hair was a mess, and as Chuuya struggled to lift his face up from Dazai's chest, a hideous amount of blood was left behind.

"I didn't call for it." He rasped, his voice painfully hoarse, scared.

"It's unlocked, Dazai," Chuuya's ocean blue eyes were wide with terror. And Dazai knew, then, what the implications were.

Corruption was out of its cage. It could take over at any time, run wild whenever it could possibly want. And if that time was in sleep, then it's going to have free reign. It also means they can't control the interval for which to let Chuuya heal.

It's going to kill him, and soon. Unless he could get rid of it almost immediately each time.

Chuuya's dilated pupils fixed on Dazai's startled ones.

"Tonight," he whispered, "you're moving into my room."


	4. Chapter 4

Dazai tested the clothe rope he had fashioned from the unused clothes in Chuuya's closet. It seemed comfortable, and the ceiling seems to bear weight just fine.

He probably needed to shorten the loop though. The low ceiling is too inconvenient, leaving him with only a few inches above the floor. He looked at the sleeping form on the bed. Curled up, the fiery haired figure seemed even smaller than usual.

How convenient would that be to commit suicide.

Chuuya would probably have a foot to spare, hanging from Dazai's current handiwork.

But for that matter, if he really were his partner, he could have just recited a few words and power would consume him, and he would die enjoying it.

In a way, it was quite ironic which abilities you ended up with. The one with the suicidal powers turns out to have the strongest will to live, and the suicide maniac ended up having to save him, when Dazai would not even like to save himself.

He smiled to himself, the dark smile accompanied by irises empty of light.

He finished correcting the length of the rope, and tested it again. As he was preparing to step off the little platform, though, something disrupted him.

"Go away." A voice whispered. The sheets shuffled as Chuuya turned, his brows were knitted together, a sheen of sweat glistening in the dim light.

Dazai sighed. This just has to happen every night. Every. Single. Night.

If you were to invite a guest in to stay overnight for every night possibly until you die, you could at least make sure you don't whisper out depressing nightmares in the middle of suicide attempts.

Dazai jumped down from the physic books he piled up to make a platform, heading for the window. He threw the panes open and the autumn chill started to settle into the room. Then he walked back to the doorway in the opposite direction, pulling his coat on to cope with the cold air.

Chuuya started awake, eyes red-rimmed, with dark circles as prominent as markers.

"Close the damn shutters, Dazai." He scowled, and Dazai ignored him, whistling a happy tune from his position sitting on the floor.

Chuuya sighed, then got out of bed and closed the windows himself anyway. As he brushed past the rope hanging from the ceiling it started to glow red, then the wooden shaft groaned and creaked. Finally it broke, and Chuuya simply said,

"It seems you don't have any shaft to hang from anymore. What a shame."

"Aw, don't act like you didn't just have a nightmare. Is it that embarrassing to admit? And I'd mercifully woke you just in time. You should at least bow and say thank you." Dazai said lightly.

The mafia eyed him, and with a tired sigh he dipped his chin, and mumbled a "Thanks."

The room fell into a kind of shocked silence.

"See, you never laugh at any of my jokes." Chuuya said darkly and went back to the bed, pulling up the covers. "And Dazai?"

"I requested a double bed for a reason. You want the entire facility gone?"

"Chuuya is a little cute when he's scared." Dazai taunted.

"I'm not scared!"

"You totally are ~~"

"Go die somewhere."

"Unfortunately the shaft is already broken," Dazai narrowed his eyes as he moved under the covers, "thanks to somebody."

"Gratitude not accepted."

"None intended."

"You just said thanks, you bandage wasting bastard."

"Ah, Chuuya is incapable of understanding simple context! How very tragic!"

"Just go to sleep already!"

"And why don't you shut your big mouth first~"

"You-"

"Isn't there a question you want to ask?"

"What, no!"

"You want to know if I could use my ability through the bedding, like I did with the party ribbon when we sacked Arthur Rimbaud."

"..."

"Unfortunately I can't, that was a special occasion. You would need to hold my hand if you want all night protection."

Chuuya turned back to look at Dazai. Seeing his serious face, the former paled visibly. But fear could do a lot sometimes.

Chuuya slipped his ungloved hand from the covers, touching Dazai's upheld one.

"Ju~st kidding~~~" Dazai laughed, and laughed, and laughed.

Chuuya's face felt hot, and before another word could be spoken a fist found thin air where Dazai had been lying. The covers fluttered back onto the bed, where nobody lay any longer.

"I'LL KILL YOU DAZAI!"

It was a rather destructive night, even without Arahabaki.


	5. Chapter 5

Secretly, Chuuya doesn't want this mission to succeed.

Of course, he wants it to be over. He wants the Port Mafia to be stronger. He wants to be free of the fear of using Corruption, the fear of destroying himself and those he care about. He wants to continue being the reliable executive who gets jobs done, whose subordinates respect and fear. He wants to stop breaking down almost every night questioning what he was and should he even continue living, with the god of destruction inside of him.

He wants all that, but secretly, he doesn't want the mission to succeed.

Chuuya woke up before Dazai - the lazy bastard would probably make Chuuya late again today, being so hard to drag out of bed. At the slightest attempt to move, though, and he had to shut his eyes back briefly over the pain.

Summoning Corruption has never been easy on him, and he has been doing it probably fifty times as much as usual during the last week. His body was complaining, but his daily check up yesterday turned out just slightly below alarming, so he was released to sleep in his own suite.

He glanced at the time and decided that he had better get up now, in order to drag Dazai's stupid ass down in time for the morning check up, before he got let into the training chamber.

He suppressed a groan as he tried to get up, and if he took a little too much care not to make a sound or disturb the sleeping man, he blamed it on his aching body that forces him to move slowly.

Chuuya is accustomed to training until his body wears out, till his every muscle screams for him to rest, but this is different. His innards seems like it's being stabbed every time his heart beats. (And damn it his heart beats too much but he guesses he doesn't really want it to stop) The doctors had wanted him to take painkillers, but Chuuya didn't dare.

It was all too easy to overexert yourself when you don't feel as much as you should.

If you don't feel, you don't really have control. You don't really knows what is happening with your own body. And you know what, with that terrifying blackout and lack of feeling when Arahabaki takes over, a little pain is a tiny thing in exchange for retaining his own senses.

With relief Chuuya let the warm water wash over him, relaxing the complaining muscles a bit. He had got this. Nothing alarming has happened overnight, he's going to pass the physical tests and continue his progress. Then he would finish, soon, and he would go back to Yokohama and life would be normal again.

He had got this.

Once he stepped out of the bathroom, though, his vision blacked for a split second. His heart beat faster. He curled into a ball of pain, grunting. A swirl of red obscured his vision. He looked at the mirror, naked torso painted with sharp, jaggy tattoos, creeping up his neck, his face, peeking from the towel around his waist.

He reined in the panic. He've got this. He has _control_.

Trying not to throw black holes at anything, he stumbled outside. Pain. Excruciating pain.

Staying conscious like this when Corruption takes hold, it's just pain and more pain, endlessly, with every movement.

He blacked another split second, gritted his teeth and ran.

The fucking suite was too large.

He smashed the bedroom door with a black hole, its essence folded over itself and disappeared alongside the power, and all but threw himself at the sleeping figure.

The red in his vision vanished, and he black out again, just a few seconds. When he open his eyes they were blue, and though it takes another few seconds to focus the result was better than usual.

"Chuuya?" A sleepy voice inquired. "Another five minutes."

"Wake up, stupid Mackerel." He was too tired to even shout. It seemed like a better tactic, though, because Dazai's eye pry itself open to look at him.

"What happened?"

"Nothing, you idiot. Just... go back to sleep. Now that I think about it, you don't need to wake up anymore anyway."

"Chuuya?"

"What, you shitty bastard. I told you to go back to sleep."

"Your lips are bleeding. And you're half naked on top of me with your hair wet and sticking to your face at seven in the morning, and not even yelling at me or blushing? I wouldn't say 'nothing happened'. No, I wouldn't at all."

Red creeped up Chuuya's ears.

"I - You shitty Dazai!"

"Ah, I see, nothing really happened. Good night, Chuuya."

"Wait - You stupid Mackerel! Just because I yelled doesn't mean everything's normal!"

"So it really is not normal."

"You - You manipulative, shameless bastard!"

"Says the half naked chibi~~"

"I -" Chuuya's face couldn't get any redder.

"..."

"..."

"It's ok, Chuuya. I'll get your clothes, you can't move a muscle, right?"

Dazai carefully adjusted Chuuya's body until he was lying on the bed, not on top of him, then got up and left through the nonexistent bedroom door. Chuuya sighed in relief. At times like this, Dazai seems almost considerate.

He started to relax, and sleep wasn't difficult at all.

Actually, there was a reason Chuuya put 'almost' in front of 'considerate'.

When he woke up, he knew something was wrong. He was sleeping in clothes, and not the familiar feeling of his suit. He sat up, looked at himself, and immediately veins popped on his head.

"You know, Chuuya, you're really like Kyouka-chan. You looked quite good in everything you wear."

"Pervert Mackerel! You changed my clothes while I was asleep!?" Chuuya glanced at the floor littered with maid costumes, wedding costumes, gothic costumes, so many dresses Chuuya almost gaped. "And that many times!?"

"Yeah, well, you slept like the dead. I got enough photos to issue a magazine. I wonder what your subordinates would say when they saw these, hehehe."

Chuuya heaved a resigned, tired, exhausted, accepting-of-fate sigh, and tried to get up.

A look of - dare he believe - concern glanced off Dazai's face before he moved to help him. Chuuya was tired. He was in pain. And he would be missing another day of work because of the attack this morning. His progress today is halted.

He was frustrated with how weak he was, how that weakness prevented him from training.

If he couldn't train, how the hell would he manage to rein in Arahabaki? If he couldn't even move about by himself, how would he manage to complete his mission?

But even through all of that, there was a tiny spark of relief.

"Chuuya, let's head over to that cafe. You haven't had breakfast yet."

"Sure." He replied, a little taken aback, "But Dazai? Give me my fucking clothes back first, you stupid Mackerel!"

"No~~~ way!"

As they walk down the street, Chuuya back in his usual black suit and hat - He had to pretend to be a haughty ojou-chan and claimed he would be so cold outside in skirts - Chuuya leaned on Dazai just a bit more than necessary.

"Aw, Chuuya! Are you sure you don't want me to just carry you instead? Your height makes it so difficult to sling your arm over my shoulders! Do you think doubling over like this is comfortable?"

"Bear with it, you bastard. Like hell I'd let you carry me!"

"Arahabaki should have caused your tongue to freeze or something, if you don't talk you'd seem almost as cute as the chibi you are."

"Quit calling me chibi you stupid mackerel!"

"Chibi wants to be called hat-rack instead~~"

Secretly, Chuuya doesn't want this mission to succeed.

Of course, he wants it to be over. He wants the Port Mafia to be stronger. He wants to be free of the fear of using Corruption, the fear of destroying himself and those he care about. He wants to continue being the reliable executive who gets jobs done, whose subordinates respect and fear. He wants to stop breaking down almost every night questioning what he was and should he even continue living, with the god of destruction inside of him.

He wants all that, but secretly, he doesn't want the mission to succeed.

Because he was afraid that if he does, he wouldn't need to rely on his stupid former partner anymore.

He was afraid that if does succeed, Dazai wouldn't have any reason to stay around him anymore.

Dazai had left him once, and he was back only because the Guild was strong enough for him to need Corruption.

In a way, Corruption had brought Dazai back into his life, after four years.

Chuuya was afraid that if he could control Corruption, even that slim thread forcing them together, wouldn't be there anymore.

Dazai wouldn't be here anymore.


	6. Chapter 6

Even for the greatest detective on earth, if nothing pulls his attention to a case, chances are, it wouldn't be solved.

By the time they noticed, it was too late.

Atsushi and Kyouka stared at the destruction all over the street that used to be the establishment of the Armed Detective Agency.

Police cars were parked everywhere, but despite all the commotion, the area seemed to be just... too empty.

There used to be blocks and blocks of buildings here, apartments, shops, offices, cafes. No matter how much someone ransacked or destroys it, there were bound to be plenty of broken concretes, metals, and general carnage.

This eerie emptiness - it makes the Tiger inside Atsushi roar.

But his foremost concern wasn't this right now. He turned, searching... there! Grabbing Kyouka-chan's hand, they ran towards the tall figure of Kunikida, speaking with a police officer.

"Kunikida-san!"

"Ah, Atsushi. Good that you are here. I need you to run an urgent errand."

"How's the others, Kunikida-san? Are they ok?"

"Of course. We were lucky the attack happened when everyone was outside, on a mission or grabbing snacks. They're sent home by now, except Ranpo-san who's helping the police investigate."

The white-haired teenager practically sagged with relief. "I'm so glad..."

"You shouldn't be. A lot of people died, some vanished without a trace. We suspect kidnapping at first, but, as you should notice, the amount of wreckage just doesn't add up. Some of these materials are gone, Atsushi."

"Gone? You mean... "

"Yes. It could have been material transport abilities, or one that creates extra dimensions, like the Guild's. But there have been no report of this much material materializing anywhere else. No records of any ability users in Japan or abroad with the same category of ability and strength."

Kyouka-chan, who has been listening intently until now, interjected, "I know of an ability that could do this."

"Kyouka-chan?"

"Yes, she's right, Atsushi. There is only one ability user who could make this much wreckage, have things disappearing in swaths and powerful enough for this scale of destruction."

"Port Mafia executive, the other half of Double Black. This could be no one else but Nakahara Chuuya."

"Ne, Kyouka-chan, do you think Chuuya-san really did it?"

"It doesn't matter. Our mission is to demand the truth from the Port Mafia. If necessary we would probably have to kill him."

Atsushi still couldn't make peace with Kyouka-chan's attitude towards accomplishing missions. He knew this was the man who raided their secret base single-handedly. But this was also the man who helped them defeat Lovecraft. The man who put up with the dark version of Dazai-san Atsushi never knew, but would sometimes get glimpses of. The person who defeat that singularity of abilities for Yokohama...

He knows that evil wouldn't be lower than the moral standards of a Port Mafia executive, but this is too... general. It doesn't even seem very much like a specific attack on the Agency, despite the location.

He couldn't help but think, that maybe there was another explanation...

"We're here." Kyouka-chan opened the car door and hopped out, and Atsushi pulled himself out of his reverie long enough to thank the police officer who drove them here, then got out after Kyouka-chan.

This is going to be one hell of an infiltration.

The metal maintenance shaft echoed a dull sound as Atsushi and Kyouka dropped onto it. Mori-san would be on the top floor, as the informant said. From now, they just has to climb, and hope they could bust out the top floor security when they come out of the shaft itself.

Static buzzed in Atsushi's ear, before it resolved into Kunikida's voice.

"Atsushi, we can't find Dazai anywhere. Since asking for that vacation, his last dealing was with Port Mafia's boss. He's completely gone under. We'd have to pull this through without that idiot."

"Understood."

That would make things more difficult, but this could be a chance for him to prove to Dazai-san that he's competent enough.

"But Kunikida-san, does nobody really knows where Dazai-san is? I mean... he couldn't be going back to Port Mafia, could he?"

"We don't know for sure. Some people believe he's out of the country, otherwise he would catch at least somebody's eyes. But now's no time for chat. When you got out of that place alive, we'll talk. Good luck Atsushi, Kyouka."

A soft click indicated the line was cut.

"Now, Kyouka-chan, ready?"

They shared a nod, and Yasha Shirayuki slashed an opening into the wall without even a sound.

Grabbing Kyouka-chan, Atsushi's legs transformed with a flash, and he launched them through the thick double doors of the office.

Inside was dimly lit. Mori sat at the far end of a long table, a blond girl in red gothic dress smiling coldly down at them.

"Ah, the special convoy from the Armed Detective Agency. We have been expecting you."

The double doors thudded shut behind them, and Atsushi didn't like the ring of finality in it, at all.

"Let me tell you why you've come all this way to meet me."

The arguably most dangerous man in Yokohama smiled, a devil's smile.

"You are here to ask why we attacked your office, no?" The girl clicked some device in her hand, and an image of the carnage they had just left an hour ago materialized on the large screen beside them.

"But Armed Detective Agency, we ask the same from you."

The image changed, this time showing multiple views from different angles of a surveillance system. It was a luxurious apartment building of some kind.

Then there was an explosion, dust billowing from the back. Then the building _tilted_, lurching. Windows broke. People jumped out, or ran out in panic. A dark figure tore out of the building, black clothes billowing around him. Akutagawa. He used Rashoumon to pin himself to the ground, against the collapsing building. His jaws clenched tight and the ground beneath him cracking. It was just enough to stop the collapse.

Zooming in on the other angle, a figure of a thin boy could be seen, holding up a support pole of the building with supernatural strength. The face was obscured, but there was no mistaking that ability.

"No, it couldn't be!" Atsushi couldn't believe it. "Kenji-kun would never do anything like that."

"The same could be said of my subordinate. Chuuya-kun could be reckless, he could be extremely violent. But in the Guild battles, he was as devastated as anyone, probably more, to see the body bags of all those casualties."

"You mean... that you didn't order the attack?"

"I paid in advance for our truce, remember? As far as I know, that haven't been broken yet. I did it no more than Fukuzawa-dono, and I have evidence that Nakahara Chuuya was as innocent as your coworker."

The screen flicked again, this time another surveillance camera apparently in a foreign cafe. Two familiar figure walked in, the shorter leaning on the taller. Then they looked at the ceiling in opposite directions, the shorter one with the hat looked directly into the camera, then said something.

The other glanced at the camera, then they both went and took the seats furthest from view.

They were unmistakable anywhere.

"Why - Where is this? And why would Dazai-san be there!? We've been searching for him for ages!"

"The short answer is that I sent Chuuya-kun on a mission, and I sent Dazai-kun as insurance. But the point is, this image was taken in a cafe in Geneva, Switzerland, only an hour from the time of incident here in Yokohama. Even a jet couldn't take him from here to there in that time. The footage is not Port Mafia's, only an ordinary security in a restaurant, so we couldn't have tampered or fake it. It is an irrefutable alibi, Atsushi-kun, Kyouka-chan."

"That means..."

"Somebody is imitating both of us." Kyouka said, her eyes intense.

"Exactly, as expected from the former Port Mafia's assassin. And that's the reason I invited you here."

"We were infiltrating - "

"The reason I _invited_ you here, is to propose a joint-investigation with the Armed Detective Agency."

A slip of paper written with crayons was slid across the table.

"If you're interested, tell your _shachou_ to meet me at the place and time specified in the note. And remember, Atsushi-kun, that Yokohama is very much at stake here."


	7. Chapter 7

There was trouble in Yokohama.

Chuuya should have thought of it before. Double Black was the most feared duo in Yokohama for a long time. If word got out that they were both gone, even for missions like overseeing weapons transportations, someone is bound to act out.

He could have used that excuse to stay in Yokahama. He could have reasonably talked his own way out of this impossible stupid mission. But instead he had been so worried about the future, so busy contemplating 'how to go about this mission,' and 'how not to die,' and 'what if he succeeded and Dazai's gone,' that in the end he'd just dove right into the trap.

And now that he's in, he couldn't get out. The two unintended rampage terrified him more than he could say. The scientists couldn't figure out why it had happened, there were no detectable physical change, nor change of electric signals in his brain at both times, except for changes brought on by extreme panic. (And yes, Chuuya had these electrodes attached to his head monitoring him all the time. As far as it goes, he considers himself lucky not to have one drilled right into his skull)

For all he knew, those two times Arahabaki acted out, shouldn't have happened at all.

He hadn't even reported the events back to Mori. It would probably be better if he get to the bottom of this first, or at least find a pattern if it's become a regular occurrence. Though he would possibly be dead by then.

Just a few minutes earlier Ane-san had filled him in on the attacks in Yokohama.

Port Mafia's residence and the Armed Detective Agency's office... Only over a week in Switzerland and his expensive fashionable flat was already destroyed, and someone framed him for the attack on the ADA.

A headache was intensifying, as if the usual pounding wasn't enough.

But to frame /him/ of all people, and with such a convincing evidence too. Could the effects of Corruption somehow be faked? Or worse, could there be another ability user like himself? Someone as powerful, as destructive. Someone who has /control/, because they couldn't have had their own Dazai too, could they?

Static from the device tucked in the belt at his side.

"Nakahara-san, your heart rate spiked just now. Another attack?"

"Ah, sorry doctor, just disturbing news, nothing to worry about."

"Good, don't overexert yourself - and I mean strictly, at all. Take extreme care, Nakahara-san."

Those bastards just have to bother over every spike in heart rate!?

For fuck's sake they could have given him some privacy. What if he's... like drunk or something, or fighting with Dazai. His vitals' gonna act up like crazy, right? They shouldn't know all that, and shouldn't be able to interrupt it too.

Yet he couldn't take off or destroy these little monitoring devices all over his body... sometimes Chuuya wish he could just throw loyalty into a thrash bin and ditch this hare-brained mission.

"Why, don't make such an angry face, ojou-chan, your servants are doing the best they could to guarantee your fragile body doesn't suddenly shut down, ne?"

"I'm not a prickly little lady, you shitty mackerel!"

"Careful~~ Your heart rates's gonna spike~"

"You - Damn- Stupid-"

In a blink Dazai's expression changed, and he interrupted Chuuya's disjunctive speech, "Listen, I wasn't joking about them keeping you alive, just now. I've seen your medical records, and it's not looking good, Chuuya. I wouldn't lie about that."

"And what the hell do you have to with any of my- "

Dazai moved two steps closer, so that Chuuya had to look up to meet his sharp eyes, boring into his soul.

His breath hitched, and he stopped himself from taking a step back. The curses on his lips had dumped themselves somewhere in the netherworld, and he couldn't help from averting his gaze.

"Because, I'm really worried about you... Chuuya." Dazai whispered, and damn if it didn't make him shiver a little and go red at the tips of the ears-

"Nakahara-san? Are you sure you're ok? This spike is just too much to pass off to bad news. Your heart rate is also a little erratic. Would you like a medical team to come up?"

"Wha- Ah. No, thank you. I'm- fine."

There was a long sigh from the other end before the feed cut off.

"Fuck. Did you say all that just to get them to call up!? You stupid, shitty lying little-"

"Chuuya's embarrassed because of me~~ huhuhu~~~"

"I'll fucking kill you! Stupid shitty mackerel!"

"Your heart rate~"

"Fuck my heart rate, and those bastards monitoring it!"

He ripped off the device and crunch it beneath his feet. It was /such/ a satisfying sweet sound. Almost as satisfying as the feeling when his kick connected with Dazai's arm. A knee in his stomach. The bastard could predict his moves but damn it Chuuya could be unpredictable when he wants. He was mad, really mad. So mad he don't know why he didn't pick a knife in the kitchen and gut this guy like a fish. Or swipe out his guns and shoot him a hundred times. He swung his fists, which connect with satisfying force, right in Dazai's face. Black substances answered the call to his palm, and he hurled one at Dazai. He moved closer, his footsteps thundering on the floor. And that look on Dazai's face-

He doesn't have a right to have that look. Not when he had been so conniving, so maddening, so cruel. Dazai stood still when his kick connected with sickening sound and as sudden as it had come Chuuya's red-haze rage died, and he was engulfed in an unexpected hug.

They fell together to the floor, Dazai's right arm wrapped around his head, the other lay limp and broken.

Dazai doesn't have a right to have that look on his face... because Chuuya didn't deserve such tenderness from anyone.

"I'm sorry." Chuuya said.

"You said that 64 times already today. Which makes it a 65, a multiple of 13. I'm going to have bad luck."

"Your luck was quite shitty already, especially because you ended up with me for a partner."

"Stop saying that already."

"Sorry."

"66."

"You don't have to count just to shove it in my face, you know? I'm repenting, for fuck's sake. I'd never thought I could have said sorry to you of all people."

"Now that's a little bit more like the Chuuya I know. Keep it up!"

"..."

"Didn't know chibi's this worried about me~"

"I'm not worrying, I'm just- just... guilty. Really, sorry for your arm, sorry for having you sharing a bed when you could just have your own suite, sorry for interrupting your sleep and your stupid hideous hobby but I'm just-"

"Scared."

"..."

"You could just say it."

"I was scared."

"Of what."

"Of myself."

"Chuuya, don't worry for me ok? And don't be guilty. You're scared Arahabaki would come back and you wouldn't be able to control it and die. And that's it. Don't be scared for me too."

"You almost sound like you're a good person."

"That's because I am."

"Says the master manipulator, huh. I would rather trust a criminal."

"Yayyy Chuuya really trusts me! You know what, with my kill records, I'm the number 1 criminal! Chuuya must have trusted me the most!"

"...Well, why do you think I use Corruption?"

"Chuuya."

"What?"

"Stop looking like that, it's distracting."

"What the hell? I'm just drying my hair!"

"Well, I'm the guest. I say it's annoying."

"..."

"You could say like, 'You stupid selfish bastard!' or something?"

"I'll stop. Sorry."

"71."

"You're still counting?"

"Of course."

"I'm sure it isn't even accurate anymore."

"It is."

"How'd you know that?"

"I never miss a word you say. Never."

"..."

"..."

"... Thank you."

"Now that's a 1."


	8. Chapter 8

Dazai was terrified.

For the longest time possible, he was scared of humans. For the longest time possible, he thought he could never understand them.

That was why he messed around, clowning, joking all the time.

Now, though, he might just find someone he could be himself around all the time. He might just be the person who could tolerate his dark, screaming soul, without all the empty clownings.

Maybe he could drown in those ocean blue eyes, instead of the Japan Sea with a mistress he would never in his life ever care for.

And now that person, his salvation, is bringing him the most terrible fear of all.

The fear of losing someone precious to him.

Right now, Chuuya was sleeping, as he should be. Dazai was serious when he said he was worried about Chuuya. He might cloud a lot of his own intentions, but sometimes, they could peek through, so much so when he was staring into those ocean blue eyes.

He's just so used to this mask that he could hardly take it off and be his own taciturn self anymore. Talk about Fake It Till You Make It. It's true. But it took him twenty years to perfect.

And as Dazai absentmindedly cradled his broken arm, he swore he would always be there for the redhead, and never left him like he did five years ago.

...

"Chuu~ya," Dazai sang heartily, as Chuuya was in the suite's kitchen, cooking some rice and making something Japanese to eat for once, to the relieve of both men. They weren't picky in any meaning, but European food could eat on you after weeks in the same research facility.

"What?"

"Let's go back to Yokohama."

Chuuya, fully expecting a tease and already tensing up to it, relaxed his shoulders and frowned slightly.

"What's that about? Why?"

Dazai hesitated. He had fully intended to tell Chuuya the truth, that he deduced that some kind of ability was responsible for the imposter's rampage, and that the time perfectly coincided with Chuuya's unintentional outbursts. That he wanted to go back and take care of all this before too many Corruptions are used and Chuuya's health would be risked. That he had a plan already going by contacting Atsushi and Akutagawa separately.

But in truth, he wanted to go alone. Deal with it quickly and come back to Chuuya. But in the mean time, a rampage might happen at any time. Chuuya could be destroying himself, uncontrollable, while Dazai was half a world away.

He must take Chuuya with him. Yet a thing akin to Corruption is out on the loose, and if Dazai's prediction is true, there would be two Corruptions to deal with at the same time. The impostor, and the induced reaction from Chuuya himself.

Besides, Dazai was injured, and Chuuya was too guilty and too kind. If he knew, who knows how many stupid things the redhead could try, possibly putting himself in danger and Dazai out of it.

"Because I'm tired~~ of this!" Dazai gestured comically to everything and nothing in particular. Chuuya's face fell, and Dazai knew he thought Dazai meant he was tired of Chuuya in particular and nothing else. He hastened to correct his stupid mistake,

"Besides, I'm tired of going on dates around here. It's good and all going to cafes and churches and having picnics at the lake together, but I'm tired of it Chuuya! Let's have dates somewhere else! And we haven't told our parents we're together remember? I have to properly introduce myself to Kouyou-san and your hat, unfortunately. And you could probably go to Mori-san. See? Perfect place to visit, right?"

"Dates? Together? ...Parents?"

Chuuya's look was stupefied, and Dazai wait with bated breath, unsure if being discovered for lying or being rejected should be feared more.

"You haven't even asked me yet." Chuuya said calmly, turning away to attend to whatever was on the stove and successfully avoiding meeting Dazai's eyes.

Dazai's for his bravado, felt a little pang of anxiety. Firstly, Chuuya's lack of response might well mean he is rejecting his ill-masked proposal, secondly he had failed to rile Chuuya up like he wanted to, so there is a chance Chuuya might contemplate over it and realize what Dazai really meant by proposing they go back to Yokohama, those two reasons in order.

"Wasn't it Chuuya who asked me? I quite distinctly remember you saying, 'Tonight, you're moving into my room.'"

Dazai knew he was being entirely shitty, but the mastermind could, he suppose, succumb to emotional illnesses just like everyone else.

"Akutagawa told me what you wanted him to do, you know, so i know you're at least not telling me the whole truth. But if you were serious about that - Chuuya's ear turned as red as the hair tucked behind it -

"Well, you wouldn't believe this but... I guess a spontaneous lie is the most truthful of all," Dazai looked down at the floor, suddenly ashamed of himself. If he list every lie he has ever told Chuuya since they met almost ten years ago, it won't end in a single large volume. "I guess that's as much as I can manage."

"Fine," Chuuya said, "good enough for me."

Chuuya marched on him, hands on hips, towering over Dazai who was sitting at the table. He met Dazai's eyes and seemed to want to say something, then his eyes darted to the cast on Dazai's arm and his face fell. Chuuya's gaze was rueful as he averted his eyes from Dazai's injury, and turned back to the stove.

Dazai grabbed Chuuya by his unbroken arm, pulled the other so hard he stumbled and fell against his chest, then hugged him so tightly Chuuya could barely breath. Then, slowly, Dazai lifted Chuuya's chin and kissed him. Softly, almost chaste, and Chuuya went aflame.

"WHAT THE HELL DID YOU THINK YOU WERE DOING YOU BASTARD!"

He packed a solid punch into Dazai's stomach, and pushed himself away, staggering back a few steps. "That was uncalled for you degenerate, stupid, shitty mackerel!"

Dazai, doubled over his stomach, couldn't help but laugh. "I beg your pardon, ojou-chan! Oh, I know my love is not enough to overcome the difference in our status!"

"Shut up you idiot!"

"Chuu~~ya, I'm sure you know a better way to get me to shut up, do you?"

He blushed again for some reason - you would think a Port Mafia executive wouldn't go red to the very tips at the notion of kissing, or at the dirty jokes and romantic implications - but hey, emotional sickness is quite spontaneous and hard to prevent for anyone.

Especially since the jokes has such a physical and... imaginable implications.

Chuuya went even redder but in unison they reached out for each other and kissed, Chuuya on tiptoes and tightly gripping Dazai's hair.

If the kitchen got set on fire because Chuuya forgot to turn off the stove, it was perfectly worth it.

(Besides, they were literally filthy rich.)


	9. Chapter 9

In a dingy workshop in the underbellies of Yokohama, pictures of a certain redhead hung — all beautifully framed, across all three walls. A blurry shot from a surveillance camera during time off-work, police report photos, secret profiles pilfered from military bases.

The prize collection, though, was the extremely rare and hard to come by photos of Corruption.

That crazed look on his face, the extremely dilated eyes, and tattoos, those moving, burning, _powerful_ patterns, climbing up his face, down his arms and ungloved hands— and who knows where else. The tattoos the color of bright, recently shed blood, so vibrant it made the red in his hair pale.

The tattooist caressed the frame that held the picture. It's way too precious to be touched by his lowly hands. He had took one himself, during the Dragonhead conflict, when that terrible monster was rearing its head and he could sense the need for a higher power thrumming in his veins.

The power of a god, Nakahara Chuuya's destructive ability.

His heart had leaped for joy, all the fear of his own ability trying to kill him, forgotten like it was the most insignificant thing in the world.

He had ran, faster than he ever thought possible, through the oddly abandoned streets of Yokohama, up dozens of floors in the highest tower he knew. On the top floor he almost collapsed, yet he unclenched his hands clamped tight on the camera, a huge one used for professional birdwatching, set it while blackholes ate through chunks of the city, and took hundreds of precious shots of the love of his life.

When he came to, he was in the hospital, with minor muscles injuries. He rushed for his camera, and though most of the pictures were of meaningless debris — Chuuya was pretty hard to catch darting around defying gravity — there it was.

One shot out of hundreds. The height of his accomplishment.

The picture was a hopeless blur, a dark figure caught mid-kick, bent arm swung back as counterweight, a slight man facing down an unearthly dragon. Such perfect posture. Fiery red eyes and fiery red hair.

And those marks— those beautiful, flowing, _glowing_ marks on his skin. He had managed to copy it— imperfect tattoos on imperfect vessels.

Those eager boys he had used for his first imitation projects had managed one turn each, barely ten seconds of supreme power. He realizes that he had indirectly vaporized some buildings in Yokohama, and destroyed - killed all of his teenage subjects by letting them handle the power, but in his mind they were the luckiest people on earth.

He would have given anything to hold those powers for himself. But the nature of his ability doesn't allow such luxury.

He would need a far stronger vessel to contain this power. Someone with more similar build, similar thickness of arms, feet, etc. It's essential to make the tattoos with the slightest error possible.

The more accurate the mark, the better his ability will be able to channel powers through them. That's how his altruistic ability works. He will be the recluse he has always been, working in his studio with a mostly unconscious subject, giving power to them.

There is another way for him to use his ability though, aside from copying the exact marks on a person with tattoos. That's to describe them by the tattoos themselves. Their personality, life history, relationships. It's much harder and he hadn't done it very often.

That certainly wouldn't work in Chuuya-sama's case though. The resources are so, so scarce. Even the blurry shots and outdated government-issued document are rare enough to be precious to him.

But he needed more. He needed so much more. If only he could get his hands on a better depiction of these powerful symbols...

"I'm going to do it one day. With this puny, reclusive ability, I will recreate a god."

He needed more subject to kill - so he could perfect his craft.


	10. Chapter 10

Chuuya aren't used to planes.

Except the Port Mafia's weapons smuggling private jets he had crashed during his time in the Sheep long ago, he hadn't had much reason to take planes, especially commercial planes. Now though, for a little private time together and for the luxury of not reporting in to the boss for a while, they are now on a Boeing heading to the UAE for a tranfer flight.

They decided to indeed go back to Yokohama to take care of things there before continuing the mission. Or much more preferable to the new lovers, use this uprising as an excuse to forgo the mission completely.

Chuuya was a precious resource to the Mafia. Powerful and loyal. They are not going to hazard his life on such a risky mission, no matter how much its success will further the Port Mafia's influence — at least that's what Dazai and Chuuya hope.

"You take the window seat, shitty Dazai."

"But wh~y Chuuyaaaa, I want to sit near the aisle! My legs are longer than yours you know, I need more stretch room!" Dazai whined like the child he was inside.

"Because you'll just harass the flight attendant ladies and ask them to commit double suicide, that's why! And don't use your damn height as an excuse, idiot!"

"Why would I do anything to the ladies, Chuuya!? I have you right next to me, remember? I won't commit double suicide with anyone else! Anyone!"

"TAKE THE DAMN WINDOW SEAT!" Chuuya shouted bristling. During the mere two days they had agreed to officially date, Dazai had realized how shy Chuuya could be.

Of course, he only want to torture the chibi more by implying their relationship to as many strangers as possible. Chuuya's outrages, indeed, attract lots of fun attention.

"Alright, alright. For my beloved Chuuya, I will endure the tiny, cramped space of this window seat and sacrifice the spaciousness of the aisle to my one and only love!" Dazai said loudly, and only Chuuya's omnidirectional death glare kept the other passengers from gigling or spouting out the reprimand on their tongues.

They were being far too loud, Chuuya thought. It was one thing yelling in the game arcade they used to frequent as teenagers, but on a plane? This is not the time or the place! Chuuya's face was tomato-red.

After they took the seat though, Dazai lapsed into one of his contemplative moods, which fits Chuuya just fine right now. They were sitting far too close to each other, and he felt like he could reach out and touch Dazai at any time. That thought somehow seemed exciting, even though they had been sharing a bed these past weeks. He had never allowed himself to take his thoughts too far.

The seat was pleasantly comfortable. And it wasn't long until the plane started moving along the runway, and they were leaving the ground within no time. Chuuya already chose the wine he's going to be having, and is waiting impatiently for the climb to end.

Then a familiar sensation struck him.

His vision began to tint slightly red, and there was this… unexplanable rage rising. He wants to destroy something. He quickly reached over to Dazai sitting just beside him, expecting an immediate recede of the sensations.

But nothing happened.

Startled, Dazai exclaimed, "Chuuya, your _eyes_. The marks!" He quickly grabbed both of the redhead's forearms, now crawling with red symbols, but instead of disappearing, they climbed further up, twisting around Chuuya's arms.

"Ability: No Longer Human!" Dazai enunciated even though he had already tried activating it with his mind. " Ability: No Longer Human!" He repeated, louder and markedly more panicked.

_No Longer Human's not working!_ They both thought in shock.

"Make an emergency landing! High grade ability out of control! This is an emergency! Tell the Pilot! Quick!" Dazai shouted, while unbuckling his seatbelt. Chuuya was frantically doing the same while his hair, his pillow and blankets, everything he touches was floating.

His eyes were wide now, with both panic and Corruption, and Chuuya spent enough time handling this beast to know that he don't have much time.

The pilot was quick-thinking enough and the plane started diving. They weren't too far from the ground and the landing seems managable.

"Dazai! It's not working! I'll have to get out of here, or else everyone will die!"

"No Chuuya! You're going to be fine. Suppress it! Control it! You can, Chuuya, I know you can! We're going to be fine. You're going to be fine."

In his life Chuuya has never seen Dazai as stricken as this. The kid tried to kill himself since he was fifteen, and even then there was not a single time Dazai had had to try to console himself like that. It's a cruel life, Chuuya knows, and for him to lose Chuuya here, after confessing their feelings for such a short time, it seems unfair.

They both know Chuuya was going to die. Because No Longer Human didn't work, and there was no way else for Chuuya. He would rampage until his body couldn't take the power anymore and die. This mission was a failure.

But if he was going to die, he would at least die trying to protect Dazai. And that means getting himself away before his control is all gone.

_"__Hey Pilot! There's going to be a hole in the plane, right at the floor! You will have land with that, and safely! Anyone here with abilities try to seal the hole if you can."_

_But they were going to stand far more chance of surviving than if he loses it here. So much destruction. _

Chuuya could feel his face curving into a grin. He was so happy. There was going to be so much destruction—

_But he wasn't happy. Dazai could die, because of him. He tried so hard to yank his lips downward. Tears streamed down his face. It's all ending so quickly. _

_He meets Dazai's eyes,_

And he shot a hole in the plane, dropping through it laughing manaically. The plane started to spin, like a toy, or a bird with broken wings. He swung blackholes at it, missing but getting so ever closer, enjoying the game.

A figure fell from that hole, maybe leaped from it, and spun towards him from the falling plane. Tall, cloak and hair billowing in the wind.

_Dazai. Dazai leaped after him._

**_'_****_I wouldn't commit a double suicide with anyone else, Chuuya.'_**

With blank wide eyes Corruption conjured a blackhole in his right hand, and leaned back in the air, the shot gathering, preparing to be thrown right at the dark figure falling rapidly towards him.

— TBC —


	11. Chapter11

Corruption's grasp on Chuuya suddenly disappered, like it was severed by some invisible wall.

It was supposed to be impossible to stop his rampage. He should be dead right now. Yet there he was in the sky, surrounded by unmalicious red aura, coughing up blood but still alive. And the red marks were retreating.

It felt like his soul was slowly being sucked out, leaving him with only the barest hint of what he was. He'd never experienced this feeling before. Every time, it was a sudden retreat. His entire body would feel like it had clenched far too long, only to be releasing. That was usually followed by an awful cramps, then weeks of aching muscles.

This time, it wasn't because of Dazai's ability that he came out of Corruption. Whatever it was, it takes far longer. And Chuuya is suffering for it.

The something hit him from above sending him on a mad spiral earthwards. He could feel the wind thundering in his ears... and warm arms around him, guarding him protectively.

Then everything came back to Chuuya. Corruption starting to take hold, Dazai's ability not working, the panicked escape from the plane. The final moment, when he could have made Dazai disappear forever, had Corruption not receded in time.

This stupid shithead, who'd jumped out of a plane for him, whose arms envelop him tight.

He couldn't use his ability, in Dazai's hands. And they were falling, falling so fast. Time became slower. Chuuya was painfully aware that he could save himself only if he pushes away.

He was the master of gravity. And he could have chosen not to fall.

Yet to let go? That was even more impossible. So Chuuya clang on, and tried with all his might to push past the wall of No Longer Human to reach his power. The power that could save them both.

Ever since they met, it was rare for Chuuya to win over Dazai. They constantly argue and fight and hate each other like opposite poles of the magnet. And now, it would be another rivalry between his ability and Dazai's that kills both of them.

_"I love you, Chuuya."_

Dazai's voice in his ear over the howling wind, before the warm cocoon left him and he felt his partner pushing him away. Cold bit into his heart even as gravity falls again into his hand.

It's just like Dazai to do this. After leaving him for four years, he came back and snatched his heart away all over again, and after two days of that he's pushing him away so he could survive, alone, in a world without a human named Dazai Osamu.

Like Chuuya would let that happen.

He screamed in rage, and the red marks crawled again onto his arms. Now though, his eyes were clear, and they were fixed on his target.

"You won't run away from me, shitty mackerel! NOT EVEN INTO DEATH!"

Thousands of miles away, the ability-infused tattoos on a corpse of a short red-haired boy glowed again.


	12. Chaprer12

In the center of a newly created crater in the middle of Europe, two figures stood frozen, embracing each other.

Observers unfamiliar with the two, however, would e surprised when they got close enough, and finally hear the string of curses spouting from the bloody mouth of the redhead.

"Dazai you bastard, are you fucking stupid or lame-brained or are you so bloody smart you couldn't pretend you aren't stupid!? Mackerel! Dimwit! Did you bloody think it was a good idea to jump out of a plane in the middle of an emergency landing!? You fucking shithead! Either you have no brains or it was too far from your feet to do any thinking properly! (And this stupid bastard is really pretty damn tall too) Either way you should never ever ever have been the Mafia's or anybody's mastermind and stick this firmly into your empty brains!!"

Having ran out of breath, Nakahara Chuuya resorted to banging his fist with all his might into the chest he is currently leaning into. Considering that he had been on an uncontrollable rampage, then drained of power, and then forcefully used his power against a god to save his lover— "all his might" really means a light shaky punch.

"You stupid mackerel..." He whimpered, then it degenerated quickly into a breathless sob, "I thought— I thought you were going to die!"

Dazai tightened his hold on his precious chibi, replying in a softer tone of voice Chuuya wasn't sure he has ever heard from his partner, "It was me, who thought you were going to die, Chuuya."

Then, as if correcting himself, the carefree quality came back into his tone and he added, "Besides, if you hadn't saved me I would still be committing a double suicide with a beautiful person— quite my ideal solution to things."

"You manipulative bastard." Came the muffled reply from his shoulder.

They spent a long moment just revelling the other's presence — something that they had mutually thought they were going to lose forever, after gaining for so short a time.

It was a heart-warming moment, a possessive moment, a caring moment. And during moments like these, love tends to be in the air.

"Chuuya?"

"...Hm?"

"I love you."

Tired lips curved upwards against the fabric of Dazai's coat, and without a reply, the redhead drifted into well-deserved unconsciousness.

Dazai's heart was thumping so hard he could hardly believe it wasn't from the exciting fall through the sky.

But at this point we all know what it was from.

Despite the overwhelming desire for a reply to his confession, Dazai knew his chibi needs the rest more than anything.

Thus, carefully wrapping the small body up in his coat, Dazai carried his partner through the sparse forest in search of civilization.


	13. Chapter13

When Chuuya woke up, he almost expected to be lying on the cold ground at the bottom of the crater he created. He knew Dazai — he had known him since being a teenager, and there's really no telling when Dazai's playfulness (Or laziness for that matter) would get the better of him.

It certainly wasn't unheard of, Dazai leaving him to the elements after a tough mission involving Corruption. The Guild battle was one such case, and the Dragonhead conflict another...

Come to think of it, why did I decided to go out with that bastard in the first place?

In any case Chuuya was already filled with dread when his eyelids flutter open, fully anticipating an excruciating limp through the cold night air back to some kind of hotel.

Thus it came as a pleasant surprise to him when he woke up in an airport lounge, his wounds reasonably cleaned, with dinner and expensive wine and a very worried Dazai waiting for him just to wake up.

Damn him for doubting his partner— Dazai is dead serious about this.

"How are you feeling, Chibi?"

"Should I be suspicious about this? Are these poisoned or something?"

Dazai pouted, "Should I be hurt that those are your first words after rescuing me from a crashing plane and seeing my gifts of gratitude?"

"Right, the plane—

"And before you ask, Chuuya, there were... casualties— less than it could have been of course. We all do our best. Most commercial pilots aren't experts, and I don't know if we could even expect a safe landing from an expert when there's a hole in the plane itself."

Over the years as Port Mafia, Chuuya wasn't unaccustomed to killing. But there are two kinds of deaths that set his innards on fire— those of his colleagues and those of bystanders.

Those rats he used to kill, they knew what they were getting into, dipping into underground traffic hardly is an easy thing, and once you were there, it's a matter of fighting for the best lot in life.

But those people on the plane...

If he hadn't blew a hole into the plane— or even know some aerodynamics to better place that hole... less people might have been killed.

Fewer families might have to grieve for relatives who will never return from a holiday or a business trip.

"Let's toast, Chuuya." Dazai's voice yanked him out of the revelry. A glass of fine wine was placed in front of him, and on the opposite side Dazai raised his glass in invitation. Was his hair gelled back to one side?

Chuuya needed more time to pull his thoughts together... but just this once, maybe, maybe he could leave all the thinking to his partner, as he had once been able to, and just enjoy living a little longer... and a little wine.

He raised his glass to Dazai's

"To a mission accomplished." Said his partner, a tender a smile touching his lips. "Well done, partner. Very well done."

Why does that smile make Chuuya's heart beat faster?

"To a mission accomplished." The redhead repeated, before downing the wine in one draught. He had to cover his face— or at least provide himself with the explanation that the red in his cheeks are from the wine.

_Is this a date? _ Chuuya wondered,_It can't be, right? _

"Do you like the food, chibi?"

"...It's great, I guess. The wine's amazing and all..."

_An apology gift. That's it. He's finally apologizing for the years of terrorizing me and playing with my emotions with a nice solid dinner— that's all!_

"You know, Chuuya... I really like how the light reflects in your eyes— it shimmers, like the ocean. If I were to drown... I would want to drown in them."

_Oh gods_.

Chuuya's mind short-circuited for half a second. His brain is overheating.

People don't say that for apology dinners, do they? So... this is a date, after all? In an airport? Now, after Corruption? After almost dying in a plane crash?

Then his mind seemed to catch up with him,

_Wait, what am I even wearing!? My hair, the torn clothes, the blood! I can't go on a date like this! It's totally not how I'd imagined — not that he ever dreamed about a romantic date with Dazai of course— But I'd at least like some warning thank you very much!_

"You can just ask, Chuu~ya." Dazai saud with his trademark all-knowing grin. "I'll answer anything you want to know. It's a special night, after all!" Dazai said cheerfully, giving him an innocent slit-eyed grin.

Chuuya simply gave up.

"Argh! Alright! I'll ask!"

"Well...Is this a...is...is this a..." The redhead trailed off, burying his red cheeks in his hands. The mackerel's going to tease him to no end about this.

"A date?" Dazai said instead, saving him the embarrassment, "Yes, it is. Or... I hope so?" He raised and eyebrow at Chuuya, and for the first time the small mafia noticed the same blush coloring his partner's face.

Chuuya looked at the food, then at Dazai, then himself, and the only reply his tied tongue was capable of making was "Uh...sure.."

In hindsight, he had to admit— it was such a beautiful night.

_

It seems like all I am capable of doing these days is writing fluff. Next time would involve some attempt at plotting I promise!

Thanks for reading and for all the nice reviews :)


	14. Chapter14

"Mori-san, this is Dazai reporting." The tall man said into a mouthpiece in front of a hastily cobbled up, high-tech looking computer station.

Over the lines, secured as he could make it, on the other side of the world, the Port Mafia's boss Mori Ougai was facing a great monitor. Over the oceans on an optic fiber a girl's voice traveled, "Rintarou, who's calling?"

"Ah, Dazai-kun, it is quite rare to find you reporting— contacting me in any way in fact. What begs the honor?"

"Did you know about the plane incident, Mori-san?"

"Indeed, yes."

"This is about the details behind that."

"I see. Is the line secure?"

"As much as I could make it, with the current resources and time constraints. Though I should probably let you know, Chuuya is here with me. He more than deserves to know."

"Greetings, Boss." Chuuya added from behind Dazai.

"Ah, Chuuya-kun. I'm glad you are still alive. I was worried there for a moment... Now Dazai-kun, go on."

Dazai glanced at Chuuya who nods, indicating that he too was ready. Dazai had insisted on telling them both at once, giving the reason that he didn't want them to be overheard since they were still in the airport. In actuality, he was a bit worried about Chuuya's reaction to the facts.

After more than a month experimenting with Corruption, pushing the limits of his body everyday, Chuuya couldn't afford to go on a dangerous mission. Certainly Dazai couldn't let Chuuya do that especially with... this between the two of them. Yet what Dazai knows would surely prompt immediate investigation from both the Port Mafia and the Armed Detective Agency. And being the hot-headed chibi he was, Chuuya wasn't going to obediently lie down and wait, not with this personal a case.

At least like this, there's still another voice of reason from Mori-san. Surely Mori-san would see that having Chuuya out of harm's way is the best course of action, right?

Dazai sighs, and started speaking.

"As you probably know from your sources already, our plane crashed yesterday. The reason is because Corruption again surfaced without prompting. And this time, No Longer Human didn't work.

"Chuuya blew a hole in the plane, and I jumped after him. I think this occurs by chance, but the rampage stopped and Chuuya… used Corruption to save me. Again, the powers worked while Chuuya was touching me, bringing us together down to the earth so hard he carved a meteor crater in the middle of the forest, but we were both unharmed."

Dazai paused, a silence into which Mori mused, "An exception to your ability? How ironic, for him to be Chuuya-kun."

It would indeed have been very ironic, if out of every single ability user in the world, the only exception to Dazai's ability is his partner. But no, Dazai knew his ability have no exceptions. It's a kind of innate sense that each ability user has since childbirth— and instinct on how to use their own supernatural powers.

So Dazai shook his head and declared, "No. My ability has no exceptions. Either this is not an ability — a preposition rendered false by the countless times I had successfully stopped Chuuya from rampaging in the past — or the only other option is that the ability actually being activated is an entirely different one from Chuuya's, being used from a distance and only activates Corruption as a chain reaction."

"Like the virus incident…. Except it actually links to other abilities instead of just acting on its own" Chuuya shuddered in realization.

"Yes, my current hypothesis is that someone — an ability user — used his ability to draw on that of others, triggering their abilities in turn. This would explain the appearances of Kenji-kun's and Chuuya's ability showing up in Yokohama, in incidents both are totally unaware of until after the report."

"And interesting conjecture," Mori announces, "Having made such connections, I would assume you would like a cross reference on the time of incident and the unexpected appearances of Corruption on your side. Higuchi-kun will be here with the data soon."

"I'll contact the agency to question Kenji-kun about the incident momentarily." Added Dazai. "We have to solve this quick, Mori-san."

_Because Chuuya can't stand these random rampages much longer_.

Dazai knows that Mori knew this, just by looking at his expression. And this was in direct alignment with Port Mafia's objectives, so Dazai wasn't worried about his own boss' reaction. The real deal stood behind him.

"Yes, boss. We have to find the bastard quick so I can kick his damned head in. We'll be back by tomorrow, the attacks never came less than a day apart, so we will be able to board the plane safely. What's my mission, Boss?"

"You're not going anywhere near the investigation or the bastard, Chuuya." Dazai stated, his voice cold and... restrained. "Akutagawa-kun will be able to take care of that."

"But—"

"No," Dazai turned to face Chuuya, but his next sentence was directed at the mafia's boss. "Mori-san, tell him that he has no mission this time... it's the 'most effective way', after all."

"Oi, Dazai, stop spouting nonsenses. This is my business! The bastard is messing with me! There's no reason I shouldn't be deployed— right, Boss?"

Chuuya turned to Mori for support, but the Port Mafia's boss knows how Dazai must be feeling. And unfortunately, Dazai's strategy is never wrong.

"I don't want to say this, but, Chuuya-kun, I think you know best that Dazai-kun's course of action is rarely ever wrong. This time, too, I must forbid you to take part in the battle."

"But!—"

"Don't be stupid chibi! This is none of your concern! It's just best if you stay in the hospital!"

"Oi, shitty mackerel, don't you just kid around—!!"

"I'm not kidding!!" Dazai almost shouted. Damn him but after almost dying today? His nerves were frayed at the edges.

There was a knocking sound from the other side of the line, however, cutting off their escalating argument. Higuchi came, with, unexpectedly, a worried Akutagawa in tow.

No good news then.

Both of them looked from Mori to the two figures on the screen, and Higuchi cleared her throat nervously.

"I'll cut to the chase, boss... As expected, the times match exactly, both in range and duration. If Dazai Osamu's earlier information is correct, Chuuya-san's rampage stopped at the same moment, down to the second, sir."

"Bingo."

Dazai and Mori said together, and their gazes met. Mori-san's almost warm eyes said to the young mastermind, "You'd better deal with this yourself... but good luck, whatever happens."

With that understanding glance between them, Dazai cut the connection.


	15. Chapter 15

To say that Chuuya was furious was a grave understatement.

He was outraged. Boiling. Livid.

It felt like all of him was on fire, each cell combusting itself and burning high to fuel a migraine-like throb in his temples. His fist clenched so tight— but he couldn't feel the nail digging into his flesh, instead all of the muscles, all of the tendons— they screamed.

It was several hours since the exchange with the Boss, yet he and Dazai hadn't talked with each other aside from the barest of terse dialogue— only enough to arrange their immediate flight back to Japan. Because as much as Chuuya wanted to be obstinate, both of them can at least agree that they should head back as soon as possible.

Yet…. Chuuya couldn't calm down, couldn't douse the fire searing his insides. Dazai was going to shut him up in a hospital and go deal with whatever bastard that's messing with them... without Chuuya.

They had razed entire organizations together, but now Dazai doesn't trust him enough to even let him participate in such a personal case. The irresponsible Dazai used to rely on Chuuya. They were partners! Indestructible. Unable to stand each other, yet inseparable.

They used to be the one and only Double Black…. and now—

"Chuuya... are you really alright?"

With the delicate, almost tender question the storm inside Chuuya was stoked higher. Chuuya tasted blood, again, with his teeth grinding so hard against one another.

_"I'm fine_." Chuuya gritted out. The bit of him that was't combusting in rage was surprised at his own self control.

Chuuya was the one with the short fuse. The least of things pisses him off. Dazai's presence guarantee that a thousand times as certain. Without a glass of wine he always feel the urge to kick something, or challenge someone. Sometimes even with the wine.

Yet he doesn't want to punch or kick anyone's head in now, even Dazai's or the Boss's. He was just silently burning to ashes inside.

"It's the Boss's order. So I'll just be silent and rest uselessly in a hospital—" Chuuya added unnecessarily. He wasn't trying to bite, but something in him just have to say it— let it out in the open.

"—while you take care of things." he finished, tucking his head so his red bangs covered his face. He couldn't let Dazai see his eyes… that thought skittered across his mind only to be crowded out by other thoughts.

His eyes were also burning.

Chuuya didn't know it at the time, but Dazai was for once uncomfortable with the situation- and at a deep loss for words. This time he had meekly settled into the window seat, without the usual banter. He had meant it, and a lot of other things, as a consolatory measure. A way to make up for forcing Chuuya to stay in the hospital. Yet the redhead seemed not to even notice a thing he did.

He knows Chuuya would want to be on the mission, but not this much…. Maybe he had read Chuuya wrong— he hadn't worked with him in years, it's more than possible that he's changed.

Chuuya seems to be in so much pain now….. he doesn't want things to be like this, not at all. Should he touch Chuuya's shoulder? Hands? Would he mind? ….. is Chuuya hiding his face because he's crying? Or was he suppressing his anger? Is that why his hands are shaking so hard?

Dazai had had friends before…. and lovers, but never like this. Never to the point that the other's pain and sufferings become his own— at least not for very long. But now he's here, and he's finding that he has no idea at all how to deal with this situation.

"Please, Chuuya…." Dazai prodded again, softly since they were on an airplane, "I just want you to be safe. I— I can't stand losing you."

_"Not….. after Odasaku_." Dazai added with a trembling voice, but he knew instantly that it was a wrong choice to make. He could feel the heavy sentence hanging between them, thick and foreboding.

After a century, and looking like he's at war with himself, Chuuya lifted his gaze up to meet Dazai's, tears run clear streaks over his cheeks.

"Aren't I safest when I'm with you?" he choked out…. a pleading sob. "Dazai, I can help, please….."

_Don't leave me alone again._

That part was left unsaid…. Because as far as their relationship had developed, this matter was still a great black hole in Chuuya's life— a four year gap where Dazai's existence was all but erased.

And as far as Chuuya knows, Dazai doesn't even _see_ anything to be guilty over, let alone apologize to his lifelong enemy for.

And Chuuya was not quite ready to abandon all his pride just yet.

"I know you want to help." Dazai said, his eyes also shiny with pitying tears, "But we both know you can't even run right now…. In fact, can you even use your power?"

Suddenly fueled with a spike of insolence, Chuuya drew a breath and snapped, "Of course I can!" Then he grabbed the nearest thing which happened to be a small pillow the airline provided, which was laying on his lap.

Instantly a red glow surrounds the small object, and it began to lift— But inside Chuuya there was a new fire going on, a pain that seems to make his nervous system burst all at once. His vision flashed white, and he couldn't see—

Chuuya let out a startled grasp.

But he has to prove to Dazai that he can use his ability! He has to go with him!

He would rather set his own nerves on fire than being left behind again.

And so Chuuya struggled to activate every drop off his remaining energy, and sure enough the small pillow was lifted, clad in red glow.

Dazai looked at the figure beside him, cord-thin and cord-taut, trying his best to lift a single small pillow, when he could fling tons of rock in multiple directions at once before.

This mission has been taking its toll on Chuuya for a long time, and it had demanded of Chuuya far more than its due. Dazai knows, because he had been observing Chuuya so closely this past month. Dazai notices every millimeter of lost flesh, every shade of paling face, every line of exhaustion— and Chuuya had far surpassed the limit Dazai had expected.

It came as no surprise to him that Chuuya couldn't do this anymore, not without some time to rest and recover. And he wouldn't be getting any if Dazai lets this matter go on for much longer.

He put a hand on Chuuya's, the one that was activating the pillow-lifting ability. "It's ok, Chuuya…. Please, just rest."

The pillow fell on their joined hands and flop down onto the floor. Slowly, ever slowly Chuuya's body unwind— as if the pain it's feeling is also slow to subside. And panting, and trying to conceal the panting, Chuuya opens his eyes to look at Dazai.

Blinks. Focuses.

"I— could do it." His whisper came out strangled.

"Chuuya…. I just want you to be safe. You can't even stop a bullet right now. Let me and Akutagawa-kun handle this, please. I don't want you to get even more hurt. I'm sorry I didn't figure it out sooner—"

It was just like that time, with Odasaku. Dazai couldn't figure everything out in time, and the first strike was the enemy's.

Both times, it's on someone Dazai treasures the most.

Last time, his friend charged the enemy, knowing that he could only win with his life as the bargain.

Last time, he was too late. This time, he's determined not to even let his friend get close to danger in the first place.

Chuuya lifts his gaze to meet Dazai's— as though he could sense what Dazai was thinking.

His eyes were so blue…. but instead of an ocean he wants to drown in, now those eyes seem like an ice fortress.

"I see…. I'm the second chance…. aren't I? You know what, Dazai? I wouldn't have snuck around and get myself killed like your— _friend_. But— it's ok…. I get it….. I'm sorry I'm _not your_ _Odasaku_."

"Chuuya!—

After mumbling that devastating sentence, Chuuya stood up abruptly and went to the plane's tiny lavatory. And didn't come out again for the entire flight.


	16. Chapter16

Two Years Ago…

Chuuya drags his right thumb over Dazai in the old photo. Young and frail, in a full work suit with that bandage over one side of his face as he had always remembered.

His expression was sarene— something he had never seen personally. Maybe that's why Dazai chose Oda Sakunosuke, despite him being far behind in ranks. It was probably because Chuuya couldn't give him this…. this thing captured between him and his friends in an old photograph.

Chuuya had pilfered this photo from Ango'd work camera as part of an investigation, and he had kept it with him since, tucked safely in his vest. It's nothing to do with Chuuya himself…. but it's a reminder.

A reminder of the reason why Dazai had left.

At first looking at it made him angry. How dare these people take Dazai away from him!? How dare Dazai left without even a word, and explanation, or a goodbye?

Then years had past without any sign of Dazai, and the photo doesn't make him angry anymore.

He's just resigned, now. The picture was in a fashionable glass case— why wouldn't he make it fit his classy apartment?— It sat proudly on his nightstand, as a reminder. Not that the very absence of Dazai Osamu doesn't remind him everyday, but that photo reminds him of the reason Dazai's left.

The reason he's here, drinking wine alone over the view of Yokohama.

It has been three years, since Dazai's disappeared, yet he could picture the bastard, sprawled on his sofa, bandage unravelling slightly and face red from the wine they've been drinking.

He could recall, far too clearly for his liking, the tightness in his chest, the overwhelming desire to touch Dazai's face….. succumbing to that desire and sitting on the edge of the couch, leaning down to touch his cheeks…. thumb tracing the corner of his lips as they stretch into a soft smile.

Most nights he didn't cry anymore, lately. But now before he knew it a few drops of tears were on the glass pane in his hand, blurring the young Dazai's smiling face.

Usually that was his cue. To end the day— wipe the tears, set the photo in its place, and fall asleep clutching the tightness in his chest…. holding it dear in place of someone he couldn't.

Akutagawa enters the dim workshop, squinting slightly to see through the darkness. In his hand was a time bomb— one not so different from several others he had planted in police stations and such.

This is just the warning, after all. No need to be more explosive than necessary.

The workshop has the appearance of being abandoned. Anyway, Akutagawa coughed softly, alerting the hidden camera of his presence. Even he had expected that it wouldn't e easy finding the culprit behind Chuuya-san's case. They had tracked this far, to this workshop with pictures of Chuuya-san all over one wall, and instruments that looks to be torture tools, but Akutagawa had been informed was used for tattooing.

Their objective this time was just to warn the tattooist that the Port Mafia is targeting him— judging by the state of the building, that rat already knows that— but also to deter any future attempts at imitating Chuuya-san's power again.

Akutagawa set the bag down on the patch of clear floor, then said, "This is the warning. Whoever you are, we know your new hideout. A bomb like this one is already placed there. Do not attempt to find it. Leave all your tools and get out, and no one will get hurt or die."

He coughs again, a few times. "You know what will happen otherwise."

It was a shame he couldn't fight this bastard just yet. But that will come soon, he suspects. For now, he'd better go back and meetup with the others.

"Please put it on the news, inspector, we need to warn people of this." Atsushi said to the hard-faced police officer. "Two red-haired people have been abducted and found dead already. Red haired, blue eyes, preferably male and short of stature. That should be quite rare in Japan—

At this Kunikida interjected, "We would recommend people who matches this description to come to the police to stay in protective custody for now, until we find the culprit. Also, the police should be able to patrol immigration control and prevent foreign people of this description from entering the country."

"But that will damage tourism and foreign relations, surely we would be criticized for that! And we shouldn't publicize this case— it might cause a panic!"

"It will cause people to be more careful." Kunikida said firmly.

"Still, I'm sure we can track down the culprit and prevent any more perpetrations! There is no point in attracting the public's ire!"

"Atsushi."

"Y-yes, sir!" Atsushi said reluctantly, moving behind the policeman, and before he could react, he was staring down at a tiger's claw, sharp and shiny and too near to his neck for comfort.

"We are not asking for an unreasonable request, inspector." Kunikida continued, voice firm and steady as ever.

As if they weren't threatening or coercing an officer, not at all.

"Please." Kunikida added after a pause, to be supplemented by Atsushi's assertion, "Please, inspector."

The inspector met Kunikida's earnest gaze for a while— this decision is not being made by fear, Kunikida could tell, the inspector is a decent officer indeed.

"I don't know why you guys have to go so far with this, but there is really not much harm in being careful." The inspector gave a deep sigh, and relented, "Fine. News announcement, protective custody, and immigration control it is then. You guys aren't the type to take things lightly after all."

Atsushi let out a breath of relief, and the claw was retracted, the white-haired boy rounding back to stand by Kunikida once again. "Thank you so much, inspector!"

"Then, if there's nothing else— there's a case to be investigated."

A flutter of black cloak sounded as soon as the officer was out of sight. Kunikida nodded to Akutagawa, not deigning to speak a word of greeting.

"I see your side of the operation went well." Akutagawa said calmly.

"Our forces will be preparing to patrol the immigration as well— better be careful when ability users are concerned. I'm sure the Port Mafia is taking care of the under-bellies for us?" Kunikida adjusted his glasses, looking at his notebook.

"Of course. Higuchi is monitoring the surveillance systems— any red-haired people will be incapacitated before they become more samples."

The word was uttered with such abhorrence that the other two could only nod.

"What about the target's hideout?"

"Message delivered, equipment destroyed. Black Lizard is trailing the target, keeping an eye on his reaction."

"Seems like everything's going as planned." Atsushi said with relief.

"Whoever they are, they're messing with the wrong person— Port Mafia won't let some dirty bastard steal our most valuable member."

"Nor would the Agency let such a versatile ability user do whatever they want."

_No matter how powerful the target is, they're not standing a chance. The only problem__,_ Kunikida thought, turning to look at a plane flying high above, _is whether we'd be in time._


	17. Chapter17

There was a knock on Chuuya's hospital room. Looking up from his gloved black hand— which contrasted greatly with the light blue hospital gown he had been given— he eyed the room's white-washed door without much emotion. He has no mood for visitors at the moment, and so said nothing.

After a moment, just as Chuuya was going to resume staring at his hands and thinking through the tangle of his emotions, the door slowly cracked open, silently, revealing a person dressed in black.

"Ya, long time no see, Akutagawa." Despite his earlier reluctance to receive a visitor, Chuuya greeted the younger mafioso with a mild delight. Akutagawa wasn't in his work outfit— that would not likely be allowed in a hospital, but instead sports a black jacket over dark red shirt, and wearing glasses as Chuuya doesn't often see.

"How have you been doing, Chuuya-san?" The younger man asked politely. It seems like the normal conversations occurring thousands of times in this hospital, but the way Akutagawa is looking at him though, sitting still in bed, his hands clad in black gloves despite the lightness of everything else in the room, Chuuya knows what was actually being asked. Still, facades must always be kept in their line of work.

"It's been a bit rough lately, what with the business trip and all. I… haven't been expecting to be hospitalized when I came back. Seems like I've overworked a little this time." Chuuya said with a light chuckle and a wry smile. Hospitals aren't hard to bug, after all, there might even be a recording camera in here somewhere.

"Thank you for your hard work, Chuuya-san. It has been invaluable to the company. The Boss also sends his thanks, though he might not be able to visit until the current project is finished."

"Ah, that's common, I totally understand. A company can't spare its head at such busy times. I wish I could be of some help…?"

"Your prompt recovery is the best help we can ask for right now, Chuuya-san. Please, be sure to take care and rest as much as possible." An expected answer in most social circumstances, yet Chuuya felt a pang of… something as Akutagawa said it.

"Although…. I can understand your feelings." Akutagawa reached his pale fingers into a bag Chuuya hadn't noticed he was carrying, and pulled out a collection of papers.

"You must be bored, staying at the hospital for such a long time, so I brought you some magazines to pass the time. Here, please."

"Ah, how considerate of you. Thanks." Chuuya said, accepting the magazines from the black-clad man, who said right after, "I'm afraid I can't stay long. I've got a meeting with a client quite soon."

"Busy as ever, I see. Alright. Thanks for the gifts."

"If you need something— or even just to talk, please contact me anytime, Chuuya-san."

"Yeah, will do. Good luck with your work."

"Well then," Akutagawa bowed his head just a little, before leaving. The boy has always been a little more respectful of Chuuya, despite him being such a headstrong mentee to Dazai. Chuuya was a little curious about that.

He doesn't know what all of the conversation might have or haven't meant, Akutagawa has probably got a mission right afterwards as he had implied, or maybe it was just a social cue to take leave. But the magazines— Chuuya knows what this means.

He leafs through a couple of them, good wine collections and motorcycle catalogues, quite a good selection. And finally he came to a thin sheaf of paper hidden between the pages. Biography information about the target, ability analysis, incident reports, and most importantly, hideout location.

Chuuya hadn't contacted Akutagawa before this. As much as he dislikes it, recovering would indeed benefit the Port Mafia most at this moment. He was reasonable, at least when the anger and hurt of Dazai's betrayal— was it a betrayal?— subsided. He hadn't met Dazai after their fight in the plane. Being a mafia helped in threatening the flight attendant to let him stay out of his seat during landing, and as soon as the plane hits the ground he had managed to sneak out and came here out of his own accord.

This decision isn't concerned with Dazai. So it's easy, and uncomplicated. It was the best course of action for the Port Mafia. That was just it for Chuuya.

The whole night he had been staying here, however, was spent trying not to think of any of the rest of the things going on right now, which are all related to Dazai and are so complicated and that leave him mentally tired every time he tries to think about them. It was what he was doing as he stared at the gloved hand, occasionally flexing it to feel the aching muscles inside.

So, directing his thought back to the secret report, Chuuya scanned it casually and memorized as much as he could before continuing to flip through the rest of the magazines. Akutagawa had indeed understood his feelings. For the first time since leaving his subordinates behind for the secret mission, the Port Mafia executive felt pride and a fierce sense of loyalty surging inside him— And know that he had missed it, so much.

The standing decision right now might be to stay in this drab hospital room for the moment, but now Chuuya had another choice, now he knows that if anything happened, he could go to the right places. He was in control again.

This gave Chuuya such a strong sense of solace that for once, he could put everything aside, laid down on the soft hospital bed, and finally fell into the first deep and restful sleep since the plane-crash incident.


	18. Chapter 18

His love was unconditional. It was the ultimate form of love.

Some might say it's maniacal, but he begs to disagree. Because in this matter only he himself could know. Maybe he's the only one who discovered it, this depth of devotion and attachment.

He knows that his love is real, because anything less wouldn't give him enough courage to do what he was doing now.

He sat in a cramp cleaning supplies cabinet in one of the oldest apartments in town. The owner used to be a feisty teenager who got tattoos from him.

Though there is no love lost between the both of them, with a little bribe and a little cunning he got this cramped space for his temporary workshop.

Of course, he hid the fact that he was pursued by the Port Mafia. No one would risk his life to take in a dead man, after all.

A dead man.

That's what he will be— very soon. But before that, he has something that he must do, no matter what.

So he took a shaking breath, wiped at the stream of sweat that dripped down the sides of his face and into his eye.

He hadn't worked on this design for some time now, because of the chaos of fleeing for his life.

But had he done it a thousand times, it wouldn't have been enough, because what he's doing is different, this time.

He winces as he once again laid the needle to his own flesh, looking back and forth between his actual torso and the one in the mirror, and the reference photos and designs clipped all around the place.

Tattooing yourself is hard work, you see, and really painful. But it's going to be worth it.

It's going to be worth it because at least before the mafias catch him and he dies, he could finally meet the love of his life—

—He could finally meet Arahabaki.

Then something pushed his head forward into the needle, piercing deep into his skin.

There was a click of metal, and his eyes widened in terror.

He was caught.

"Now, this hideout is particularly low-end, considering it's the enemy who's up against Chuuya."

A cold voice said from behind him, unexpectedly lightly, but icily emotionless.

"The least you could do is be a little fashionable about it."

"Port Mafia...?" The tattooist breathed.

"Four years ago, the answer would have been yes. I would have told you, I am the Demon Prodigy, the youngest executive of the Port Mafia... but no longer. I defected."

Port Mafia has a nasty reputation of horribly executing every single traitor. And this man said he defected four years ago.

The Port Mafia had let such a key personnel evade their grasp for 4 long years. And that man now hold a gun to his head.

Cold sweat runs down his spine.

"We have time, let's have a little chat, shall we?"

"What do you want from me?"

"Oh, nothing. I want nothing from you. But the right question would be, what do I want to _do_ to you."

"W- Why should that even matter? I'm not targeting anyone. I'm staying well out of mafia territory! What could you possibly _want_ with me!?"

"I said I'm not with the Port Mafia anymore, didn't I? If I was, you'd be far more lucky."

"Lucky?" The cold metal barrel didn't left his temple, nor did it move or shake at all. Could he move fast enough to slap it away and fight hand to hand?

"Well, your ability is quite interesting, Mori-san would want to recruit you. Fortunately, I don't have that restriction."

He whipped his arm in a wide arc, knocking the gun away surprisingly. The thing clattered to the other end of the tiny room and hit the wall.

Then a boot slammed down on the hand he'd used to swipe away the handgun.

The crush of bones.

"Arghhhh!"

"For example, Mori-san would have to preserve your hand, because your ability is dependant on the use of it. Fortunately—"

The boot clamped down harder, more cracks of bone. He grunted painfully.

"Fortunately, I don't have that restriction."

The former Demon Prodigy shifted the weight back to his other leg, lifting the crushing hold on his hand, but before he could even let out a sigh of relieve, that boot swung up and found his chin.

He hit the wall painfully, but through the stars he remembered the gun. Remembered it clattering against this very wall.

Footsteps came his way.

He groped for the gun, found it, and grunted at the pain of the impact his smashed hand made with the object.

He made the mistake of looking down at it, and was greeted with the awful sight of a bloody mess contrasted with stark white bones jutting out.

He felt faint.

"Do you even know what you did with your power, tattooist? You can tattoo symbols representing an ability user on someone to imitate that power, I know you know at least that much. Kenji-kun's character was straightforward, so that was easy, I imagine. Other's abilities and personalities are far more complicated, so you've only tried Kenji-kun and Chuuya— who has literal symbols on his skin when he uses Corruption."

Dazai has never been the kind to talk too much during interrogations. It only wastes time and let the enemy recuperate. The key to torture was to hurt the victim right as they were going to recover, keeping them out of breath, letting them lapse out of defense mode, and hitting them before they could recover.

Dazai kicked the gun away. With the proximity to the tattooist's hand, and the grunt that it incurred, he suspects that it hurt.

"But do you _know_ that your ability triggers theirs?" Dazai asked still coldly. But he could feel the anger, rising in him, hot and suffocating.

"Do you _know_ how much Chuuya suffered because of your stupid ability? Do you _know_ how taxing Corruption is to the body? Do you _know_ how painful it is when every single organ in the body is overworked, aching from the inside out?"

His voice was rising— not good. What is this feeling? He had been in the Port Mafia for years, and never felt like this. He wants this damned ability user to suffer, to break him, destroy him, over and over and over. To never ever ever ever let him die. To make him wallow in eternal pain and fear and utter despair.

"But you _do_ know, didn't you?"

Dazai questioned.

He was breathing harder now. His heart was racing. It was so unlike him to feel like this. The man who'd hurt Chuuya lies there on the floor, several bones broken, limbs mangled.

"You _do_ know how taxing the power is on the body. Your test subjects fucking _died_ every time you tested it! You knew! You knew and you fucking—!"

"Dazai-san."

Dazai stopped abruptly, resumed a calm posture.

"What, Akutagawa, I told you stand guard outside, didn't I?"

"Are you going to kill him, Dazai-san?" Akutagawa asked, equally emotionlessly. "If not, I will."

"No." Dazai said immediately, gliding to Akutagawa and laid a hand on his shoulder so he couldn't do anything rash with his ability.

_I want to torture him forever_. Was something Dazai would never admit to anyone, least of all his former mentee.

"He poses too much risk, Dazai-san, you know that! If we let him live, there is every chance he would find a way to do something behind our backs! As long as he is alive, his power can be activated and Chuuya-san can be in danger!"

"_I know that!"_ Dazai snapped.

He fought hi own rage. Reached for the gun. Aimed.

**_"Death is far too good a fate for you."_ **Dazai pronounced,

But before he could pull the trigger, there was a thin, reedy voice from the limp body.

"You c- can't kill... me."

"What?" Akutagawa asked in surprise, and Dazai stayed his hand on the trigger.

Between heavy breathing, the tattooist pushed himself up with his good hand. The pistol moved with him, fixed on his forehead.

"I planted a— a bomb, you see. Tattooed… one last subject. Twenty-something lad. Foreign tourist. Slight. Blue eyes. Red hair. Beautiful lad really….. he was desperate. All my— victims— were that way."

Dazai's grip on the gun tightened.

"So, you see. That lad's— in hiding, somewhere. If he ever operates his power, you'll need to touch me to disable it. You… need me. As an insurance."

Dazai's hand on the gun was gripped so tight it was shaking. Akutagawa had never seen his mentor this out of control before.

"Or…. you could let your own redhead die."

Dazai gritted his teeth and with a sudden movement thrown the gun at the sitting tattooist, it hit him in the head so hard that the guy was knocked down once again.

"Akutagawa, bind him,"

When he did, Akutagawa saw blood, flowing from his head. The gun was in pieces a distance away. Turning to go, his brown coat fluttering, the Demon Prodigy added, "And Akutagawa? Make it painful."

Obediently, the man tightened his cloak-strip Rashoumon around their captive, carefully avoiding vital parts, but opted for non-vital, nerve-filled sensitive areas. He would much prefer a clean killing, but for Chuuya-san, he could do as much.

After the shady pair left, a figure stepped out of the shadows. His blue eyes were well adjusted to the darkness of the dusk, and had no trouble seeing the blood stains, the broken gun, and the blood-soaked tattooing equipments that makes his bile rise.

These things were also the origin of the noises he had been overhearing for the last half hour.

The redhead sighed deeply, expressing his frustration. He probably should be heading back to the hospital now. It's almost time for the nurses' rounds.

Adjusting his hat, Nakahara Chuuya descended the stairs of the run-down apartment, and headed back the way he'd come.


	19. Chapter 19

"Chuuya!"

The door to the hospital room slammed open, and despite him expecting it, Chuuya jumped a little.

"This is the hospital Dazai, keep your voice down, will ya?"

Chuuya said in a low, and surprisingly cold voice, giving Dazai pause. Chuuya had never used that voice on Dazai, except in some kind of jest like when he intentionally get caught by the Port Mafia.

It... froze his heart, somehow.

"You escaped the hospital just now, didn't you?" Dazai said in his Demon Prodigy voice, equally cold and equally low.

It was late at night, but despite the cold the window is open, letting in a biting breeze.

A gloom seems to set in the dim hospital room.

"Yeah, so what?" Replied Chuuya defiantly.

Dazai had to bite his lips to suppress the anger and frustration. No, getting Chuuya angrier wouldn't serve him at all. After sacrificing his 4 years streak of withdrawal he'd finally dipped back into illegal activities to protect the chibi, the last thing he needed is losing him emotionally instead.

That said, it's so hard to force himself to be civil.

"Where did you go?"

"You don't know? Or rather... you didn't notice?"

Somewhere he was supposed to know, or noticed... His eyes widen slightly.

"Akutagawa gave you the location, didn't he? The stray dog... biting its master as soon as my head was turned..."

Dazai's hands were in fists, but he relaxed quickly enough. Now is not the time to let anger get the better of him. He's been dying to make up with Chuuya for so long, even though it was barely two days yet since their argument on the plane.

He'd finally made it here, it's no use getting angry.

"Chuuya… I'm—"

It was then that Chuuya got off the bed, crossed the few meters separating them, and put his arms around Dazai.

The taller man froze, but the word "sorry" didn't die on his lips. If anything, the unexpected hug fueled his conscience even further. Dazai finished what he was going to say,

"I'm sorry, Chuuya."

Without raising his head from its position buried in Dazai's chest, Chuuya responded,

"Let's stop this, Dazai."

He'd been waiting for this too, and if the speech he's giving is a little prepared, it only showed how nervous he was to ensure this meeting goes as well as could be hoped.

"The enemy was caught already. Even if the 'bomb' he'd planted went off, you can cancel it by touching that bastard. Keeping me away wouldn't have anything to do with my safety anymore. I'm always safest with you, as I'd said before….. Trust me, Dazai. Let's work together, let's be partners again. Please don't— please don't—"

_Please don't leave me alone anymore._

Then, a horrifying thought struck Chuuya square in the chest, making it hard to breath. There was another possibility, wasn't there? Another explanation for why Dazai was so eager to have him hospitalized?

"Or….. you don't want me around, after all…."

The hands around Dazai went limp, dropping to his sides. But before he knew it, he himself was wrapped tightly in a warm embrace.

"Chuuya….. don't say that," Dazai's voice was trembling just slightly, "Please, don't say that, because it'd never be true."

_Right…. there's no way it'll be like that._

Smiling slightly at his own stupidity, Chuuya resumed hugging Dazai, and the two stayed like that for a long, long moment.

Having made up, the newly reformed Double Black settled back to discuss their course of action.

Dazai popped a piece of grape into his mouth, causing veins to pop on the chibi's head, "That's my get well soon souvenir, shitty mackerel! And we're supposed to be planning! You hear? Planning!"

"I'm the one doing all the planning anyway, so I should get all the food too, no?"

"You stupid, shitty bandage wasting device!" Chuuya got up halfway on the bed and raised his fist.

A graceful finger on Chuuya's forehead plopped him down properly onto the hospital bed.

"Alright, alright. But patients get to stay in bed." The taller man said bringing up the blanket and firmly tucking the small redhead in. "As for the plan…."

Dazai resumed his seat on the stool beside the bed, this time setting the half eaten fruit basket aside.

"We have two targets now. One is the ability user himself, the tattooist. The other is the 'bomb', the person who looks like you, who'd been tattooed the marks of Corruption, and will be a threat if left alone."

Chuuya nodded gravely. "Dazai, the kid was probably tricked into it."

Right, the 'bomb' unmistakably have red hair and blue eyes. For him to have similar height to Chuuya, he must be a half Asian or still a child. From the database in Port Mafia that Akutagawa got for him, it's likely the latter. The kid could have been bribed or threatened into it. The news is getting around— no kid would willing have himself tattooed knowing they'll die in less than one minute if that power was ever to be activated.

"Yes Chuuya, that's probably true. We'll have no choice but to find him first and prevent him from activating it at all."

"Yeah."

"Now where to find him…. While the features is distinctive in the Japanese underworld, the kid would have to hide it because of the tattoo marks. That means he'll be covering his body and face quite well. He can't go anywhere…."

"We don't know what he intends to do, do we?"

"Unfortunately, no. The interrogation is ongoing, but the bastard hasn't let anything slip up until now."

Chuuya frowned slightly. "You're…. torturing him."

It wasn't really a question, so Dazai didn't answer. Instead he said, "It's worth it."

It's worth anything to protect the redhead. Even having to torture someone else, even having to abandon all the progress, all the positive changes he'd undergone for the last few years.

Even breaking the promise to Odasaku.

"…..Thanks, Dazai." Chuuya mumbled quietly, to which Dazai responded with a huge, face splitting, radiant smile.

"Of course!"

"That's completely cheesy." Said the redhead.

Still grinning, Dazai crossed his arms and settled back in the most self satisfied posture the world has ever seen.

"So?" Chuuya prompted, a little annoyed at the display but glad to see Dazai smiling so genuinely.

Raising a knowing finger, Dazai laid out the plan:

"I'm going to keep an eye on our hostage to provide insurance. The tattooed kid would likely have you as his target, so he'll be searching for us. We will in turn search for him before he can find us, Chuuya'll catch him by surprise so he'd have no time to use his power. If he does, I'll use No Longer Human to immediately neutralize it. The rest, is up to you, Chuuya."

The redhead listened, liking every 'we' and 'us' thrown out there.

Finally he nodded. "A good plan, as always."

"I'll be stuck near the hostage, so this'll depend on you, Chuuya."

Grinning like a second sun, Chuuya replied,

"Leave it to me, Dazai!"


	20. Chapter20

"Found you."

Out of the darkness, a low, but playful voice. Despite anticipating it, the boy being called jumped violently, then twisted to look back and up, into stunning blue eyes, overcast by red bangs.

If anything, the boy felt like he was looking up at himself in the future. Face a little more chiseled than his might have been, but otherwise almost indistinguishable.

"Y- You are Nakahara Chuuya?" He asked timidly.

"No one else." Was the reply, as the man called Nakahara Chuuya kicked the garbage bin the boy had been hiding behind, letting light better illuminate the cowering body.

Chuuya put a hand on one of his ears, and mumbled, "Target found, I'm bringing him back to you for ability nullification."

There was a little static reply, inaudible but to the wearer of the communication device. "Affirmed." He replied, then shifted his focus back on to the 'target' in question.

"Don't worry, I'm here to help. My friend's good at removing abilities, those curse marks of yours included. I don't know what type of bomb you are, but we can disable it before you detonate and die. Let's get going."

Nakahara Chuuya offered a hand to the boy, whose dull blue eyes peeked from beneath a cloth veil. In the semi-darkness he could just see the marks of Corruption tattooed on his face.

_So that's what it look like, ugly things._ Thought the mafia, scrunching up his nose just a little. Since he was going berserk every time the marks had appeared, the he had never even seen the design before. Chuuya wondered if the marks would ever fade, or if the boy would have to live with it all his life.

"Come on." Chuuya prompted.

After a pause, staring at Chuuya from the darkness, the small figure stirred.

"It's just as he say." The boy murmured, lifeless eyes holding Chuuya's, reaching a frail hand up for the older redhead's outstretched one.

"What did you say?"

"It's just as he say…. He said to hide somewhere, that my double called Nakahara Chuuya would find me." The boy continued as if in a trance. "It seems you are the one."

Their hands touched, and before Chuuya could process any of the things the boy said, the boy's cloak flared with unseen wind, swirling upwards.

Beneath it, on the naked boy's body, tattoo marks flickered, and erupted with blood-red brilliance.

Immediately pain shot through Chuuya's body, setting his nervous system ablaze. The small mafia gasped in surprise, but even the grasp was cut off as a scream of pain burst from his throat, and Corruption activated against his will. There was static his in ears, meaningless, deafening. He could not feel anything but the pain, and the coiling, burning sensation of Arahabaki awakening in him.

His vision was black, and all that was left in his world was the struggle of the fight, against the monster inside of him.

_Control it_, his mind whispered, as his body seemed to be destroying itself.

"Chuuya! Chuuya, Chuuya!" Dazai screamed into his earpiece in panic. Then caught himself after a split second and thrust his hand forward to grip the hostage's arm.

"No Longer Human!" Dazai shouted in slight panic. Blue light bursted forth and enveloped the tied body, but the scream on the other side of his line continued.

What is happening!? Dazai panicked.

"Hey! What's the meaning of th—

Before the Demon Prodigy could finish his demand the figure in his grip shook like an earthquake, then began to thrash hard enough that Dazai's vice-like grip was shook off.

As the man, tied to his chair, managed to offset the furniture's balance and crashed onto the floor, red light blazed and his eyes flew wide open.

Nakahara Chuuya grunted and groaned as he fought with Arahabaki. He was coughing blood, and red tears run down his cheeks. His red eyes were wide but unseeing. Above all, moving marks crawled up his arms and face, dark and radiant.

_How beautiful._ Thought the tattooist, in a red-haired boy's body.

Nakahara was still gripping his hand, which convulsed along with his body, tightening beyond human strength. His hand was broken, of course, bone jutting through ugly flesh, but the convenience of Chuuya's imitated ability is, it summons a god into the body without the bodily sensations.

That's a blessing in his current predicament, but also disappointing, considering what he was here to do.

He reached up with the boy's body, strength also inhuman as he ignores all limitations of the flesh. He shot forward and gripped the soft red hair, coated in blood, and forced his head forward into a rough kiss.

The tattooist wished he could feel it, wished he could taste the blood, but this is enough. His dream had come true.

"I love you." He purred, "I love you so much, Arahabaki."

He suppose he should thank the Port Mafia for this, since this plan had only been born out of desperation. Programming himself as the god who would process his subject, having the subject meet Nakahara Chuuya and activate his ability, successfully possessing the subject's body in place of Arahabaki even as the real Arahabaki is triggered in Nakahara.

He pulled Chuuya's body into another forced kiss, to which he convulsed violently, but no attack went his way. It would seem that Nakahara Chuuya is still more or less in control, and he doesn't want to kill the boy.

How ironic.

The tattooist released his hold on Chuuya's hair and grabbed the earpiece instead. He broke into a wicked grin and spoke into the device,

"Heard that, Demon Prodigy?" he said disdainfully, then, thoroughly enjoying himself, he added to Chuuya, "Now, why don't _you_ kiss me?"

"Die." Dazai said through gritted teeth. He has no breath for anything longer. All his disgust and anger and fear, everything was propelling him forward faster than he should have been able to run.

The Port Mafia's compounds now to him seem endless, as he sprinted for one of the parking spaces. He just have to steal a car, quickly. He must go to Chuuya.

He regrets not being able to kill the disgusting man who brought all this on Chuuya all for his own sick fascination. But he didn't have the gun in hand then, and he just had to leave.

Pulling a time-bomb trigger was all he could manage in the split second.

He couldn't risk being just a few seconds too late like last time, after all, but he also couldn't let the man live for what he had done, and might do in the future.

He had been foolish, to fall for that plan, capturing the bastard alive and tying himself down to him. That was all on the basis that the ability could be cancelled by him touching the tattooist.

But that wasn't true. And he should have realized it sooner. Maybe he would have had he study the ability more completely.

But now, he knew. He knew that was all a lie, and the man's ability is to give others abilities. That means the tattooist was using the ability only while he was tattooing. After that, the ability belongs to the subject.

He had touched the wrong person.

The one he should be monitoring was the lose 'bomb', all along. And he had been foolish enough to send Chuuya to that bomb, alone.

Dazai couldn't believe himself.

Shooting the shoulders of two guards with the gun he had swiped on the way, Dazai ran non-stop until he could yank open a car door and slammed his foot onto the accelerator.

This time, he wouldn't be late. He wouldn't.


	21. Chapter 21

Chuuya brought his arm up to hit the guy.

No matter who that bastard was— and Chuuya has a pretty good idea— he was still in an innocent victim's body, and Chuuya doesn't want to hurt that body….. at least, not more than he had already.

But he was neck-deep in disgust, and anger.

Still, the blow was far too powerful. The boy's body flew at least ten feet to his left, landing in a small cloud of dust.

Chuuya himself coughed up even more blood. It's getting scary. How much blood does he even have in his body? Because he'd excreted so much in the last few minutes that there are red _puddles _everywhere.

Chuuya focused within himself once more, imagining himself shoving the ugly beast inside him back into the recesses of his mind. The red marks on his body receded slowly. Disappearing back into his sleeves, down his cheeks and onto his neck.

As the last of the marks were slithering back past the edge of his collar, Chuuya flew into the nearby building, and felt debris burying him.

His control slipped for a moment, but he clamped down on Corruption again, hard. This time, though, he didn't shove it away.

Someone was attacking him, and he needs to get away.

He channeled the overwhelming power through him palm, and was actually surprised when he could _feel_ gravitons gathering there.

He expected not to be able to stand, the pain was excruciating, but he all but sprang up as he used a black hole to blast the debris burying him into nothingness.

He heard a ripping sound, though, and more pain shot up from his legs almost making him black out for a second. Then he caught himself and dashed away from the building, back into the street, right as a black hole absorbed the entire area where he had been, so the ruined building earlier now becomes just a foundation.

Chuuya grasped and found the source of the destruction. The red-haired boy stood there, eyes wide and crazed, tattoos blazing, laughing, laughing, laughing even as blood spurted around him and black holes form in his hands.

Was that what he always looked like?

He wondered what Dazai thought when he saw him like that. He would not be able to bear it if the situation was reversed, or would he?

Chuuya, one hand on a street pole to help keep himself up, looked down to survey the source of his raging pain.

Then froze in absolute horror.

A gaping gash ran along his leg muscles, splitting his leg lengthwise into two, down so he could see the bone. He would _never_ recover from that, he knew. Human bodies might be able to perform small miracles in healing itself, given time and proper treatment, but if he could recover from this wound, the entire human race would have been immortals.

But….. there is also no way he should have been standing on those legs in the first place. Yet despite needing a little support, he is.

He felt dizzy, and would have thrown up had his stomach not feel like it had been dissolved by acid. Maybe it had dissolved, albeit by something else.

He's going to die.

A black mass hurtles towards him, and his mind stilled to frightening degree.

He's going to die anyway.

He closed his eyes.

_But I'm not going to die by this revolting ability. I'm not going to die because of Corruption._

Chuuya opened his eyes with a determination, and this time it wasn't crazed, it wasn't glazed over. It wasn't the red of barely controlled Arahabaki. It was sapphire blue.

Dark tattoos still glow red on his face and arms.

Chuuya pushed off the lamp post, and with his messed up legs he somehow launched himself to the side, landing on his face a dozen feet away.

His legs were a jumble of pain, yet he had been able to jump so far. And that could only mean one thing, his body's natural limits are still off even when he consciously use the the power. He could use his body until he became a pulp of slime in this state.

Normally that might sound gruesome, but he's going to die anyway. At least, this means he could still fight. He could still choose his own death, to some degree.

That gave him a sudden feeling of liberation, and he quickly hurled a black hole in his opponent's direction then got to his feet.

He didn't try to bear the pain. He just ignored it.

Black holes are unstoppable, there would be no point in making them collide with each other. It's not a matter of whose black hole is stronger than whose. If they collide, the destruction could be even worse for them all.

So Chuuya ran on his wondrously powerful but deteriorating legs, dodging and hurling blackholes for distracting purposes as he tries to recall what exactly had the people at CERN said about black holes colliding with each other, but he can't seem to recall.

Was it something about rotating around each other by their mutual attraction... or maybe they just combined and get bigger?

He realized he wouldn't get anywhere with this, and cursed himself a little for not listening properly when it was being explained to him.

He needs a plan, and quickly.

What are his goals? He is going to die anyway, but _how_ does he wish to do it?

Asking that question made him think of Dazai, and he had his answer. He started to make a pattern in his dodges, a pattern resembling a beeline in the direction of the Port Mafia's headquarters, on which Dazai is unmistakably making his own way towards him.

Chuuya wished he could last long enough for them to meet for the last time.

Then he fell, face first, on the hard uneven concrete ground.

He let out a muffled cry, propping himself up with one arm and looking back at his legs— they were... "a lump of meat" was the word that came to mind.

There wasn't even enough blood in him to seep out anymore. Why is he even alive right now?

Chuuya retched then, heaving out more blood and slimy lumps of somethings.

His innards, maybe.

That only last a few seconds, though, before he rolled around just as something slammed into the spot where his head was a second ago and the concrete he was lying on vanished beside him.

_I'm sorry Dazai..._

The boy's feet thumped somewhere beyond his feet. Somewhere _close_.

_It seems I wouldn't last much longer._

Out of the edge of his fading vision, Chuuya thought he could see a blackhole forming above him.

Chuuya let out a bloody chuckle.

_And the very first time I got you to really trust me._

The boy raised his tattooed arm, with the blackhole in hand.

_I failed_.

The boy slashed his hand downwards.

.

.

.

"You did great, Chuuya!" Yelled a voice, as a shadow passed over Chuuya's head.

The awaited deciding blow had never landed. Corruption is subsiding in him, and Chuuya was vaguely aware that without Corruption to keep his body functioning, he might as well die immediately.

So he cling on to Corruption for a little more, but his grasp both on the power and on his own consciousness is slipping rapidly.

Then he felt arms wrapping around him, and his world began to sway. He felt nauseated, but he forced his eyes open.

Everything was covered with a red haze, but Chuuya thought he could see Dazai.

Ah, he had made it, after all. To see Dazai for the last time.

And his world went black again.


	22. Chapter22

"Thou Shalt Not Die!" Intoned Yosani Akiko, member of the Armed Detective Agency.

It didn't require any torture tools for Yosano to activate her power this time. The Port Mafia executive in Dazai's arms was probably the closest to death she had ever seen a human be.

She couldn't even tell how he is still alive, but as the purple aura from her hand envelops him she knew he must be, because her ability cannot bring the dead back to life.

The mangled body rose and knitted itself together in midair, Dazai watching fixedly, until the healing was complete and the body of Nakahara Chuuya touched back to the ground, still dirty from the old blood, but otherwise perfectly healthy.

Dazai sank to his knees beside him, listening to his heart and feeling for his breath, as if he couldn't believe the redhead was still alive.

Then, when he had confirmed, without a doubt, that he is indeed alive, he started crying.

To say that Yosano is surprised would be a grave understatement. She had never seen Dazai Osamu cry ever since the day he joined the ADA. And she doubt he had when in the Port Mafia either. In fact, she would have thought that the man was incapable of such a thing.

Yet there he was, hugging the mafia's body like a lifeline, burying his head in the crook of the unconscious man's neck and wailing like a child.

Yosano turned away to allow him some privacy and went to take care of the other redhead kid that had collapsed right where Dazai had touched him and free him from the tattooed Corruption.

That one, too, was barely alive, and Yosano easily succeeded in returning him to health.

The tattoos had disappeared with No Longer Human, leaving the skin of the kid perfectly clear again, and Yosano was struck by the resemblance between Nakahara Chuuya and this person.

She could still hear Dazai's heart-rending sobs from here, since he hadn't run far to meet up with her just now. And it was a good thing he had called as soon as he did, because she had been just about to board a train when his shouting voice out of the phone speaker demanded that she come to help him at once.

If he had been just a minute late, Yosano would never have made it in time to revive that dying lump of flesh.

Job done, Yosano picked up her phone and called Tanizaki.

"Tanizaki. Have you got the transport yet? No need to hurry. Two stable patients and no corpses here, we're lucky today."

She looked back at the silhouette of the embracing couple, and repeated to the phone, "No need to hurry."

It seems like Dazai would need some time to calm down.

Dazai was confronted with the destruction of the Port Mafia's interrogation room some time after he had got Chuuya safely transported to the redhead's own luxurious apartment to rest and recover.

He had indeed set off a time bomb in that room, but it was small, and there was no casualty except the prisoner, so he was let off the hook easily enough.

Officially holding Chuuya hostage, he had given the Port Mafia enough excuse not to attack or arrest him for execution, while in reality he carefully washed and cleaned the sticky blood off Chuuya's still unconscious body and saw him tucked in bed and, completely exhausted, had collapsed into a chair beside him, resting his forehead on their linked hands.

In a way he breathes easy knowing the redhead is safe and sound, that he had been in time this time. But on the other hand his heart was still racing whenever he thought of the closeness of it. Of the possibility that, had he been just a second slower, or Yosano had but hesitated for a minute, his partner would not even be alive right now.

He doesn't know whether to be relieved or what. His feelings were the very definition of conflict.

Seeking to distract himself from staring at Chuuya's perfectly peaceful face, Dazai looked around the neat, clean apartment.

One would not expect the violent, short-tempered Nakahara Chuuya to be capable of maintaining this level of immaculateness, but Dazai knew it was the chibi's very nature to do so. He had always been fond of appearance and 'style.'

Chuuya's apartment was exactly the same as before, same well-stocked wine rack, same furnitures, same feeling. Even if Chuuya hadn't been here for a few months, everything was filled with his presence.

Then, his eyes caught on a detail he had never seen before, a modern-looking glass picture frame on the nightstand.

Curious, Dazai picked it up... and froze at the picture inserted in it. It wasn't a photo of Chuuya, but Dazai, Ango, and Odasaku.

The last one they had taken at Lupin bar before everything went haywire and Odasaku died.

The trace of memory from the only group of friends he had had that excluded Chuuya himself.

Now, of course he has the ADA too, but then, everything was work and what's work had included Chuuya. Outside of work it had been petty competitions at the game arcade between the two of them... until he had formed this friendship with the people at the Lupin.

Dazai's fingers tightened on the glass surface as he wondered what was the purpose of having this picture framed and set beside his nightstand.

It hadn't been there when Dazai was here last, so it must have been set up after he had betrayed the mafia and left.

He suspects it signified anything good.

"Chuuya." Dazai murmured, setting the frame down and turning to look at the sleeping figure.

For the first time he admitted that it might have been a mistake, after all, leaving without a word.

For the first time he thought that perhaps it would have been better, after all, to let Chuuya in on this, and risk his execution from the mafia.

Not for the first time, Dazai's heart contracted painfully in his chest.

He dropped his head back onto their intertwined hands, telling himself to fall into slumber.

He couldn't wait for Chuuya to wake up.


	23. Chapter23

It was so novel that it felt weird for Chuuya not to feel any pain, especially after over a month of constant barrage. But maybe that was the entire point of heaven, or the after life, or whatever. It would suck big time if there was such thing as suffering here as well.

Feeling, oddly enough, physically invigorated, Chuuya nevertheless felt very tired.

He never knew that death was such a challenging ordeal.

Then Chuuya opened his eyes, and saw a familiar ceiling.

He also notices that despite the lack of pain, he wasn't entirely free of sensation. His right hand, for one, felt distinctly clamped and clammy. He tried to move it, but found that he couldn't very well. Then he turned his head carefully, afraid of sudden movements somehow, and he found the reason for the heavy weight on his wrist and hand.

"Dazai?"

Chuuya said and his voice came out perfectly healthy. Not a trace of hoarseness or soreness from all the screaming. It was so weird almost to the point of being uncanny.

Dazai started awake with a terrible jolt, and he stared at Chuuya like he was seeing a ghost. There were dark bags under his eyes and redness in them. Then his face split into a huge, none-annoying, completely genuine smile and he almost threw himself at Chuuya, hugging the petit mafioso with something akin to desperation.

Chuuya froze for a brief moment, his brain still muddled with sleep.

Then, he punched Dazai full force in the stomach.

"What are you doing here Dazai!? You stupid suicidal mackerel!"

Dazai flew across the room and hit the wall with a painful thud, beginning to cough almost immediately.

Chuuya raised an angry, imperious finger.

"Just because I died didn't mean you have to die with me! Don't you ever understand that sometimes you just want someone you love to just live on even when you can't!? Why, why on earth did you— !!"

Dazai was coughing hard, but then it turned into delighted laugh, something so jarringly out of context for Chuuya that he cut himself off mid-complaint.

"What are you laughing at, mackerel? What's so funny about this?"

"Just— kof— look around, Chuuya." And he degenerated into a fit of laughter.

True enough, when he grudgingly surveyed his surrounding, he recognized it immediately. His own apartment.

Then the confusion sets in.

"But it's not possible." He said, looking down at his flawless, uninjured hand. He started and scrambled to pull the blanket away from his legs, dread filling him, afraid he would see only empty sheets.

But there were the two of his limbs, looking and feeling perfectly healthy. When he tried flexing it, he felt the strength and no trace of soreness whatsoever.

"My legs. I saw them before you came, this is not possible." He repeated, dumbfounded.

Indeed Chuuya's entire body had been to the point of tearing itself apart. He had lost so much blood that without the ability sustaining the life in his body, he would have passed out and died long before Dazai ever reached him.

His muscles were frayed, almost, and they had split open lengthwise in countless impossible manners.

It had hurt. It had hurt so much. This was not possible.

By this time Dazai's fit of laughter had subsided, and he picked himself up off the floor, one hand over his stomach.

"The world have ability users, chibi. You say what is impossible?"

"Yosano Akiko—" Chuuya blurted in realization. "But how—? And I'm in the Port Mafia!"

"Can't let a valuable hostage die, can we? You're far, far more valuable alive than dead, Chuuya..."

Dazai resumed his former position beside the bed, his brown eyes holding Chuuya's blue ones so firmly Chuuya could not have looked anywhere else if he wanted to.

"...especially to me." He finished, to the utter silence of the room.

Chuuya had just become aware of the birds chirping cheerily outside the window, their sounds like gossiping observers watching their every move.

Heat rose in his cheeks, spreading across his neck and face. Suddenly he felt like averting his eyes, but then lift his chin and said defiantly,

"Oh? Now I'm a hostage for your agency?"

Dazai chuckled, and smiled tenderly. He was so glad to see the insolent ojou-chan side of Chuuya again after so long.

"No, not the agency's" Dazai said letting a wicked smile touch his lips, before he leaned in and pressed those same lips into Chuuya's, a quick and chaste kiss. "You're mine."

"Doesn't make things any better." Chuuya grumbled noncommittally, knowing his words would be underplayed by the red in his flush and the un-concealable gentleness in his eyes.

Dazai didn't pull away, but didn't kiss the redhead again either. Instead, he wrapped the smaller man in a tight embrace, their bodies pressed together so Dazai could feel the entire length of Chuuya's body. So he could feel, in that deep part of him that was still whimpering in fear, that Chuuya was really here in his arms, alive, and safe and sound.

As if reading his mind, Chuuya whispered in the gentlest tones he knew,

"I'm here Dazai. I'm right here."

Tears stung the detective's eyes, but he did not know whether to let them fall. He had almost never cried in front of anybody. Only Odasaku's corpse and then grave, sometimes.

And he cried so much already these last few days.

"Don't you worry you'll be late to save me, Dazai." Chuuya said again against his ear, his breath tickling the exposed skin, but his words tickling a long-shut part of his heart that he dared not let out in the open.

Four years is a long time to let a wound fester.

"Don't you worry you'll be late to save me, like your Odasaku."

At the mention of the name, tears finally fall.

"I was so afraid." He confessed brokenly. Despite his best efforts his voice just wouldn't stay still.

"Don't worry, Dazai, because you can never be late to save me."

Chuuya pushed Dazai's body away so he could look up and meet his misty, flooding eyes.

"No matter how late you recognized the danger, no matter how stupid and slow your think yourself to be, you'll never be late to save me... because I'll always wait for you."

Dazai cried, then. Really cried like a little child they both had to hide in the mafia, sobbing loudly into Chuuya's shoulder.

And Chuuya knew, it had been worth the wait, to finally meet Dazai again.

He knew that Oda Sakunosuke would continue to be a large part of Dazai's life. He knew that those bitter times he spent denying his own feelings when Dazai would go to the Lupin and meet his new group of friends wouldn't go away. He knew the fact that Odasaku left a wound on Dazai's heart would not change, that reality would not change for them.

But at least, he knew he was the one to heal that scar.

He also knew that if the same thing happened again a million times, he would still wait for his stupid mackerel to come to his senses, and look down at his side, and notice the short little person with the characteristic mob of red hair standing there, every time.


	24. Chapter 24

_The Untouchable City. _It was not long before the redhead executive return safely to the Port Mafia, that Yokohama was named as such.

No threat had dared come to the port city, after a particularly well-coordinated ability terrorist attack was thwarted with such a public display of prowess.

They had came in mere days after the affair with the tattooist had ended, seeking to take advantage of the mess left in the wake of confusion, and, presumably, Chuuya's death.

Of course, they were mistaken, not to mention a few days too late.

Chuuya fought the almost invincible foes off like a comet, a red comet with a single spec of blue trailing frozen light across the battlefield.

Even in its most vulnerable hour, the attack on Yokohama had been easily countered by a single trump card.

Corruption mastered, Chuuya was careful about his limit and didn't even spend two minutes taking care of the enemy. But when he had finished and landed on the ground, to the cheer of the Port Mafia and the citizens of the city, he swayed precariously.

Then the ominous red marks left his complexion and his knees buckled.

It was Dazai who caught him before he fell to the ground, and carried him all the way back to his own apartment.

The redhead was pale, and even though his eyes bled a blue more intense than ever and his skin was as uncorrupted as can be, the entire slight body was shaking so hard Dazai felt painful even watching him.

Chuuya drifted to a regenerative sleep, and when he woke up, Dazai wasn't there but a full hearty meal was waiting on the kitchen table.

Dazai might not need to use No Longer Human to stop his ability now, but he is still the one to deal with the aftermath of Chuuya's controlled rage, every time.

And he was always there, even when he didn't need to be.

It reassures Chuuya more than he could describe.

At the Port Mafia, things has also changed.

Augmenting by a hundred folds the already frightening reputation of the Mafia, Nakahara Chuuya has turned from valuable asset to invaluable.

His degree of power was incomparable, to the point that Mori would have had the entire organization bent on killing him in order to keep him in his place. Surely there was no more powerful potential boss than Chuuya, and he would surely be a real threat had he not the failed experience at leadership from the Sheep.

As such, Chuuya had no intention of leadership, and Mori Ougai has obtained the most valuable asset imaginable: a loyal and powerful subject.

With only one catch.

"Chuu~~ya~~"

Dazai Osamu, an active member of the Armed Detective Agency, waltzed right into the executive meeting room of the Port Mafia Building, where the all important, once in every five years conference was taking place.

"Let's do a double suicide!" The tall ex-executive announced to the room, cutting apart the sinister atmosphere of ill intents and power struggles entirely in two.

After shamelessly inviting countless women during his bachelor career, Dazai has now focused all of his annoying attention on Chuuya, and the redhead would hear this request at least seven times a day, if not in person then by text.

At least this time the mackerel didn't swept in and took his hand like he's going to propose a marriage— now that would be awkward.

"Stupid mackerel, what did I tell you about barging into meetings!?" Chuuya's mood had shot straight from coldly calculating to burning argumentative. Dazai still tend to have that effect on him. "Unlike your lazy ass, I have a _job_ to do here!"

"Come onnn Chuuyaaaaa," Dazai whined, "These meetings never have anything interesting anyway, all of us know it."

Mori would have had something to contradict this statement, as would some others, but the Boss was busy heaving a resigned sigh. This is not the first time this happened.

"Pretty, pretty please?" Dazai knelt in front of Chuuya and looked up with his best puppy eyes.

The redhead must admit, it was more often effective than not.

Chuuya glanced at his Ane-san, who is exuding a murderous aura that makes his hairs stand on end. But fuck it, he's not a kid anymore. He could do whatever he the hell he want.

That didn't stop him from shooting a profoundly apologetic look to her, as if saying that this begging undignified bastard is forcing him to go— which would be Kouyou's conclusion anyway— and then, fighting the sigh threatening to escape himself, he said,

"Fine. This is the last time. And nothing dangerous."

There shouldn't be any suicide attempt methods that are not dangerous, but Dazai nodded repeatedly as if his head was on a spring, his eyes sparkling childishly.

"Alright then," Chuuya said with a sigh, standing up from the high-backed chair and turning to address the Boss.

"Sorry, boss. I'll catch up with the meeting later."

"As always." Mori consented, not sure whether it had been the right move to send Chuuya on that mission to control Corruption. The Port Mafia had truly gained a lot of power and reputation, but he wonders if the privileges he must grant to the redhead now is worth it…. not to mention the sighs are probably killing his health.

"Well then." Chuuya bowed formally, and tried to walk out the room with as much dignity as he could muster when there was a Dazai clinging to his back like a monkey.

As soon as they left the sacred meeting room, the members of the Port Mafia could hear their heated arguments the building over. The four remaining executives and the Boss looked at each other, then heaved a collective resigned breath.

Young people these days are getting too carried away.

At the Armed Detective Agency:

Kunikida: "Where is that damn stupid Dazai?! I need his paperwork!"

Atsushi (head dejectedly on the table): "Working on it, Kunikida-san…."

Ranpo: *munch* *munch*


End file.
